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OH, YOU ENGLISH! 



4 






OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


BY 

EMMA SHELTON ROBBINS 

H 



THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

440 FOURTH AVENUE :: :: NEW YORK 

MCMXV 



Copyright, 1915, by 
Emma Shelton Robbins 



FEB 26 1916 

©CI.A 4 20.9^6 

'Vv- . / . 


PROLOGUE 

THE LONGING FOR BETTER THINGS 

“Of all the myriad moods of mind 

That through the soul come thronging, 

What one was e’er so dear, so kind. 

So beautiful, as longing? 

The things we long for, that we are, 

For one transcendent moment. 

Before the present, poor and bare. 

Can make its sneering comment.” 

The first interest I took in myself or things was when 
my mother died, and then I remember living on, on in 
this old house ; my oldest sister married and gone away, 
my oldest brother gone to the big city to make his own 
way; with just Beth and Dobson younger than 1. 

Oh, what a beautiful, lonely, dissatisfied life, with an 
exacting, and I might say, cruel father! with none of 
the worldly goods that make life attractive; just life 
with the homely things of nature, and also the beautiful 
wild scenery; yet not satisfied, always longing to be 
known and recognized by the inner circle. 



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► 



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OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


CHAPTER I 

“What can I do to come out of this monotony into 
life, with people and things ?” That was the cry of the 
lonely girl just budding into womanhood, scarcely six- 
teen years of age. In this mood she would wander 
away up among the rocks and pines and dream and 
pray to be delivered from her humdrum life. 

One day, while sitting above the stream flowing among 
the rocks, watching the fish glide over the ripples and 
wishing to be free like these, all at once the stillness was 
broken by the sound of horses’ hoofs on the rocks. She 
sat still, and the rider soon hove in sight, a fine-looking, 
middle-aged man, with kindly expression, laughing eyes, 
and a beard covering his white face. Looking up he 
saw the girl and called to her, saying, “Will you kindly 
tell me where I can get dinner and a feed for my horse?” 

She hesitated, then said : “Well, I don’t know, unless 
you go back up the hills with me ; my father sometimes 
takes people in.” 

He came on, leading his horse, and they walked on up 
the narrow path together. At first the girl was shy, 
then, wondering who he was and whence he came, at last 
she said : “I guess you are from St. Louis.” 

“Well, yes, young lady. You are a good guesser. I 
am; but now I am staying around here in the foothills 
of the Ozarks to try to get back the health I have 

7 


8 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


gambled away with lots of other things — my money and, 
I might say, my ‘rep’.” 

She glanced at the man, now over forty years old, 
and the thought passed: “If he were younger I could 
fall in love with him.” Aloud she said: “Where are 
you staying.?” 

“Over here about seven miles, at Charley Jones’. I 
was thinking of making a change, and was just riding 
about reconnoitering. Later I want to work slowly 
over to Hot Springs to get the benefit of the water 
there.” 

When they came in sight of the old house the girl’s 
father was on the tumble-down, rickety porch. “Well, 
Pap, here is a gentleman I found down by the ford, 
hunting a place to get dinner.” 

The old man rose up and invited the newcomer in. 
He came forward, presenting his hand without any hesi- 
tation whatever. 

The two men shook hands and the stranger said : “My 
name is Weicliff, Lorraine Weicliff, and I am from over 
at Jones’,” pointing in the direction from which he and 
the girl had come. 

“My name is Freelanhisen, and this is my girl, Amily. 
Now, run, Amily, and tell old Dilsy to put an extra 
dumpling in the pot.” 

The girl turned to leave, raising her big gray eyes to 
the man’s face, who seemed to see something in the 
young face that greatly interested him. The men 
talked on for a while, when Freelanhisen said: “If you 
are willing to put up with our sort of living, I guess 
we can stow you away somewhere.” 

When they had talked for an hour or so the girl 
came out to call them into a supper of corn bread, 
bacon, buttermilk, and stewed apples. Lorraine 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


Weicliff’s ride had given him an appetite, and he en- 
joyed his supper, looking at the girl many times, won- 
dering why she interested him — she a very young girl 
and he a middle-aged man. “It must be the longing 
in those gray eyes, those eyes that seemed to speak, and 
were sometimes gray, then, when animated, turning to 
a yellowish brown.” 

Weiclilf noted that when her father was talking the 
girl would start as if she would join in, but under that 
roof no one of his family dared to raise a voice unless 
invited by Pap. She would then settle back with a sad, 
disappointed look and listen with rapt attention. 
Listening to this man from out of the world to which 
she longed to go, she sat on the old porch in the moon- 
light while her father and Lorraine Weicliff talked. 
They had so much in common to talk about that they 
ceased to notice or even remember the girl’s presence. 
They talked of the days of the gold fever in California 
in 1849 and of how fortunes were won and lost at 
gambling and gold mining. 

Freelanhisen had married the girl’s mother the year 
before the gold fever broke out. He married her, a 
mere child, against the wishes of her brothers and 
sisters. She was an orphan, mother and father having 
died when she was only ten years old, her oldest brother 
being her guardian. He had sent her to Charleston, 
S. C., to a boarding school. 

Here at the house of her dressmaker she used to meet 
the young Englishman, Freelanhisen, and at first never 
telling about meeting this English boy. He had come 
over to this country one year before, landing on the 
coast of Georgia and working, or I might say, loitering 
about till he interested himself in hunting up a cousin 


10 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


of his mother’s. This cousin had been in the States 
for some time and had married a good girl, who added 
to the household income sewing for the college girls at 
Charleston. 

It was thus Freelanhisen met the lovely young Amily 
Connally, and fell in love with her at sight, and managed 
to make her love him. Then, one dark and rainy night 
he called at the back alley of the college on horseback, 
tapped on the fence with his riding whip, according to 
an understanding, and Amily Connally came out and he 
pulled her up behind him on his horse. They rode to a 
suburb of Charleston to a squire and were married, the 
scared child not realizing what she had done. Freelan- 
hisen told the young wife her college days were over, 
and took her to his boarding place. When the next 
morning broke clear and bright Amily came to a realiza- 
tion of the seriousness of that midnight escapade. She 
was now a wife, at the age of sixteen. Unable to eat 
breakfast she went outdoors to collect her frightened 
senses. While sitting among the trees in a big back 
orchard crying, an old negro came by with a bundle on 
his back. He saw the child there, recognized her, and 
came up to her, saying: “Dat you. Miss Amily Con- 
nally What you doin’ here crying lake the baby you 
is.^” Seeing old Uncle Ben, who belonged to her and 
was hired to the adjoining place, Amily sprang to him. 

“Oh, Uncle Ben! where did you come from.^^ Oh, I 
want you so, ’cause I have to have someone to tell what 
I have gone and done !” 

“Now, child, what you done done?” 

“Uncle Ben, I am married to that young Englishman 
who has been over at Morris’.” 

“Who? Dat curious-lookin’ Englishman with dat 
Dutch name?” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


11 


“Yes, yes. Uncle Ben. How I wish I could go home 
with you to Atlanta to Brother Tom.” 

“Child, listen, what you say, you done married sure 
’nough.? Child, child, I wish your poor mother was 
here. I don’t know what to tell you. But just go on 
now to yo’ husband — cause he is dat now.” 

With that advice he patted her head and she began 
to cry again. About that time Freelanhisen came out 
and spoke to the old black man. 

“What are you doing there? Whose negro are you?” 

“I ’longs to this child, cause her brother Tom is 
her guardian and he done hired out all dem negroes 
what old Marse Wilson Connally lef’ for dis pore honey 
child.” 

“Well, Ben, you can go on now and tell Tom Connally 
his little sister is married and on her way to California.” 

The old man looked bewildered and said : “No, master, 
you ain’t surely goin’ take my little Misses ’way out to 
dem gold mines, whar der is no negroes to wait on her 
and she not fro’ school and got no education?” 

“Here, old man,” he answered, tossing him a dollar, 
“go.” 

“Oh, Mr. Freelanhisen, are we really going to that 
awful California, sure enough? Oh, I don’t want to go 
out there and leave everyone who loves me.” 

“We will be on the way by September. I will go 
call upon your brother and see about your negroes, and 
how much money there is.” 

“Oh, Mr. Freelanhisen, I never thought of money! 
Really, is there any money? My brother always gave 
me what I had to have, but I never talked of money to 
him.” 

“Well, we will see about that.” 


CHAPTER II 


When Freelanhisen did see Amily’s guardian ther^ 
was trouble. Tom Connally threatened to take the girl 
away from her husband, as she was under age, but 
finally they came to some sort of understanding. In 
the end Freelanhisen got together fifty of Amily’s 
young negroes and started for California to work them 
in the gold mines there. 

He did well the first year there, and then he fell in 
with the wild element of California — the gamblers and 
sporting class. He now began to neglect his little wife 
and baby and his time and his money were spent in dis- 
sipation. Before long, the money all gone, first one 
negro had to be sold, then another and another, till 
all were gone. 

A companion going back to his own home in Mis- 
souri induced Freelanhisen to accompany and begin life 
again in the States. He stopped in St. Louis for a 
while, but his money was about gone and he saw he 
must get to a smaller and cheaper place. He and the 
poor wife went up the Missouri River to a small town 
called Providence, where he got a situation to clerk in 
a small store. There was nothing at Providence except 
a landing, you might say, for the Missouri River boats, 
and the river gamblers from New Orleans to St. Louis 
used to stop off a trip to gamble in this seemingly quiet 
village. 

They lived in poverty in a small house here, and 
12 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


13 


Freelanhisen allowed his wife to have no correspondence 
with her family in Georgia, save when they sent her 
money as they collected notes and rents from time to 
time. Each year the husband used his wife’s patrimony, 
till nothing was left. However, he had kept the old ne- 
groes he brought from Georgia to wait on and cook for 
them. 

Soon something had to be done, so they made another 
move farther up the river, to the beautiful old college 
town of Boonville. By this time there were five lovely 
children. 

When the boat that took them up to Boonville made 
the landing, Mr. Freelanhisen came down to meet his 
family and old colored mammy. He had gone on ahead 
and rented a small old house, which the children and 
old Dilsy called the Black House, for old Dilsy ex- 
claimed on seeing it, “Oh, my mercy Lordy I what, old 
Miss going to live in that Black House I She is used to 
living in fine big rock house.” 

The house, it is true, was black from age, coal soot 
and no paint, but was really a quaint old place, with 
large grounds. The children, pretty happy things, 
were glad to be so near the river and play in that big 
five acre ground, grown wild with yellow roses and lilac 
bushes, intermingled with wild hazel and blackberries, 
with some fruit trees and locusts. Its chief drawback 
was in its neighbors. 

“Now, children,” the mother would say, “stay with 
Body in your own grounds, and don’t mix with those 
bad, vulgar children in the neighborhood.” 

She need not have cautioned them, for old Body, as 
the children called Dilsy, was a born aristocrat. She 
would not let her white children, as she called them, to 
have anything to do with poor white trash. She would 


14 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


call to Octavia and say, “You come way from that fence, 
talking to dem po’ chilern. You ’longs to the ’stocracy, 
cause you’ mammy’s folks is governors and things, and 
yo’ Daddy’s done come from England, whar them 
them kings and queens is, and you got no business talk- 
ing to po’ white trash, cause I done tells you you is 
’stocracy.” 

When Amily said, “Mammy, what is ’stocracy.?” 
Mammy would return: “Go’ long, child; it means big 
folks. Not just common everyday folks, but different, 
cause they blood is blue, I hear them say; and, child, 
when you cuts you finger it ’tain’t no red blood, it is 
blue, pure blue.” 

“Mammy, it looks red to me.” 

“Oh, child, you is color blind, cause it’s blue, I tell 
you ; and I done hear ’em say back in Georgia your ma 
and your pa is blue blood, and I done knows what I em 
talking about, hear me 

Things went along as usual, Mrs. Freelanhisen spend- 
ing all her evenings alone with her children, she was so 
proud of them and loved them so. At first she did not 
miss the company of her fault-finding, irritable hus- 
band, and when she asked where he spent his evenings, 
in fact, all his time, he would scowl and answer, attend- 
ing to his own business, as he wished she would do. 
Amily would cry for a while and sit and think of her 
home back in dear old Georgia, and wonder if they had 
forgotten her, as they had left off writing years ago. 

They had gotten so poor now that she sent old 
Dilsy out to earn money to keep the family. She 
would reason with the good, kind, gentle, old negress 
and tell her how she would manage to take care of the 
children and the little black house if she would go out 
and do work. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


16 


“Dilsy,” she said, ‘‘I cannot bear to hire you out by 
the year. I need your sympathy and loyal love for 
the children and myself.” 

And the honorable woman, with tears in her eyes, 
would say: “I will never leave you. Miss Amily, ’cause 
I told yo’ brother Tom Connally I would stay by that 
dear child, and that the reason it seems lake they done 
forgot you. Miss Amily, ’cause I promise to watch over 
and take care of you, and they know I will do it.” Then 
she would cheer her mistress by telling her, “Dey ain’t 
forgot you. Dey’s just troubled with that war and 
got trouble of they own.” 

They struggled on in the old black house till the 
oldest children were grown. Tao went back to St. Louis 
with a fairly good common-school education, to make 
his way in commercial life, and Tacie had married and 
gone to north Missouri to live with her farmer husband. 

One day Freelanhisen came in to his wife and said: 
“Tell Dilsy to pack up ; we will leave in a few days for 
the Ozarks in Arkansas.” 


CHAPTER III 


When Lorraine Weicliff chanced to stop at the big 
old house in the Ozarks the mother of Amily had been 
dead several years, and old Dilsy was getting feeble, and 
Freelanhisen was crabbed, cross, and exacting. No 
one dared to express an opinion while in his presence, 
that is, none of his family, for they all feared him. 

One day, some time after Weicliff ’s advent, her father 
called Amily to him and said, “You are a grown girl, 
now, I want to have a talk with you. Come in here.” 

Amily followed him onto his den, as the younger 
children had named that room, — the lion’s den, — as they 
never entered it without being led to it in fear and 
trembling. 

Arrived here, the father said: “Amily, sit there in 
your mother’s chair,” an old wooden armchair where 
the mother used to sit and sew while Freelanhisen would 
talk to her of his past and his boyhood days in England. 

“I might drop off suddenly, my girl, and I want you 
to promise to take care of Beth. I guess a boy can get 
along. See this iron box,” taking a queer old brass 
bound iron box out of his twice locked drawer. “This 
box contains nothing of money value, just a history of 
myself and family. I never told you before, because I 
did not wish to put false notions in your head. But, 
girl, you are a countess by right, with a moneyless 
title. What does it amount to.? I ran away from my 
old father and came to America when I was a very 
16 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


17 


young man. I got with a fast set of gamblers, and I met 
and married your mother, a child, in Georgia. She was 
of a good Southern family. I stole her from school 
without the consent of her brother, who was her guard- 
ian. I traveled about with her from one place to an- 
other, till I had squandered all her money, plantation, 
and negroes. Then we came here last, and she passed 
away here, forgiving me, and always patient and good. 
She adored her children. I used to resent it, as I was 
always selfish and jealous of her love for you all. She 
was an angel; she never blamed nor unbraided me in 
her life. Now she has gone and left me old and broken 
in spirit. I see I was not a kind husband and father. 
If I could go over it all again I would live differently. 

“My ancestral house is near Redick. Bowlie Church 
is on the estate. My father died without seeing me 
again and cut me off without a shilling. When leaving, 
he gave me this old box and it contains a few hundred 
pounds and these papers. My father thought I would 
soon tire of this wild, roving life and return to England. 
Your title, my girl, is an empty one, but you are royally 
born. 

“You know all about your mother’s family; she has 
told you many times, I know. You know that some con- 
nection of hers governs the state of Georgia now. I 
tell you this that you may hold your head as high as the 
best, for you are a lady born.” 

“Well, father, what good is that to me or us, as we 
live in these rocks and mountains, with no associates 
or friends that we care about.? This gentleman, 
Lorraine WeiclifF, is the first educated person we have 
seen for months.” 

“Is that why you and he are so interested in each 
other.?” asked her father. 


18 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Yes, Pap, that is why I sit so long and listen to him 
and you talk. Why have you never talked like that to 
us and told us about your beautiful England.^ Pap, 
listen to me now ; I am sixteen past, and I will tell you 
that by the time I am eighteen I will be out of the nest 
trying my wings. I am going to Redick and visit 
Freelanhisen Hall, the home of my proud father.” 

“No, no, girl, not that; never go back there. You 
would not be received or welcomed, and they would not 
believe you were a Freelanhisen.” 

“I would have these papers. Are they not proof 
enough ?” 

“Yes, oh, yes ; but things have changed since I left 
my home. The lands have mostly been confiscated, and 
the story is too long and tedious. Some other time I 
may explain all more fully. Now go and see why Beth 
is going out.” 

The girl saw Lorraine Wei cliff reclining on a homely, 
homemade hammock under some trees in the inclosure 
that might be termed a park by those who wished to 
pretend. Approaching him, she said, “Father has been 
telling me of his past, and his home across the ocean. I 
have been so interested, and I love to hear you and him 
talk of the big cities and things of the world. Oh, I 
would so love to go away from these hills, — to go far, 
far away 1” 

“This is a peaceful, quiet place, and peace and con- 
tentment is worth all else,” he remarked. 

“But I’m not contented. I want to go, but my father 
has no money to give me, and I am too proud to call on 
my mother’s friends. I am going, though, some day, 
and I will go out, and sink or swim as Fate wills it. If 
I can make my way I will return for Beth. Father says 
he will never make another move.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 19 

“How are you ever going out to see the big world, 
then ?” 

“Oh, I don’t know I but I feel that I am going very 
soon. I don’t know where nor how, I only know I am 
going.” 

“I wish I could let you see what a big cruel, black 
world it is, so full of shams. Here I feel as if I had 
entered a haven of rest and peace, and you are wild to 
fly to ills you know not of. Oh, Amily, be contented 
here ; live the simple pure life ; it is the best.” 

“No, no, a thousand times no! I feel that restless- 
ness, and I won’t be content till I have gone and seen 
for myself. All the books I have read — at least some — 
have told me one can make her own life of happiness or 
misery as she tries. I want to do things — write books 
and paint pictures that will live after me. I know I 
cannot do these things at first, but with what I know 
of common sense and the limited education I have, I 
will later, with the world for a school and observation as 
my teacher. I am a willing and anxious pupil, and I 
know I will do and see what I strive to. With my 
determination nothing can daunt me.” 

“Well, I will not try again to deter you in your 
ambition, and if I could I would help you. Amily, 
promise me if you ever need help or feel I can aid you 
in any way, you will call on me. No matter where I 
am I will respond.” 

He offered her his hand; she took it, thanking him 
heartily, and saying: “Now, remember, if I want you, 
you will come to me. We are friends, and in case of 
sickness, Mr. Weicliff, if you want me to nurse you I 
will come. I am not a very good nurse, but I can learn. 
I am willing, and that is something. You are my very 
first friend besides old Aunt Dilsy — I mean a real, sure 


W OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

enough friend, that I will not be afraid to call on, same 
as father.” 

The tears were on her cheeks as she turned and went 
back to the house and up to her little bare room, with 
only a little bed in a corner, a deal table with some 
books, and on the wall pictures from magazines and 
pictorials. She sat down by the window and, placing 
her head on her hand, resting against the window sill, 
she sat for an hour. 

Aunt Dilsy came to the foot of the little stairway 
and called to her, “Amily, you’ Daddy’s been calling 
you fo’ the longest. Now what’s the matter wif you, 
honey, ’cause you looks like you been crying.” 

“I have been. Body, dear.” 

“What you got t’cry bout.?^ Now, ain’t you got me.? 
and den you just finished your pretty red calico dress, 
and dem new shoes you got over at the Possum Trot 
store. Dey ought to make you happy, the Lord knows.” 

Amily threw her arms about Aunt Dilsy and put her 
cheek beside hers and gave her a squeeze, then ran away. 

Two days later Mr. Weicliff said to her : “I am going 
on to Hot Springs. I thought I would go there by 
slow degrees, riding on horseback through the Ozarks, 
reaching Hot Springs by fall. Then I thought I would 
spend the fall and winter there, in hopes it would help 
my rheumatism, as well as in a financial way too.” 

“Oh, I thought you had all the money you want, as 
you are dressed so well and sent back for the big trunk 
of fine things. And you and Pap talk about thousands 
and thousands of dollars, like they were plentiful. I 
know Pap has spent all of my dear mother’s money and 
he has nothing now but these twenty acres and this 
old house and those horses, which cannot be of great 
value. We have always been so poor.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 




‘‘I am not rich, although some people think so. To- 
day I may be poor, but next month I may be the pos- 
sessor of many thousands. My life has been a life of 
chance. You could not understand.” 

“Well, Mr. Weicliff, I begin to understand. Since 
you and Pap have thought I did not understand, and 
have talked so much and so plainly in my presence, I will 
speak plainly to you. I think you must be a gambler.” 

“Oh, my dear young lady, that is putting it pretty 
strong.” 

“Well, let’s change the subject. When do you go?” 

“I go very early to-morrow morning, before you are 
out of bed.” 

“Oh, I am up with the sun.” 

“Then I may say good-by to you at breakfast.” 

Next morning, when Mr. Weicliff had ridden over the 
hill and out of sight, leaving Amily, Beth, and Dobson 
with their father on the porch, Amily said, “There 
goes the only gentleman we have had in our house in 
many days.” The father rose and sighed, then passed 
around the house to the stables. “Amily,” Beth said, 
“why is he any more a gentleman than many others 
about here, like Uncle Charley Jones, Mr. Maxwell, or 
Dr. Walker?” 

“You are too young to understand, Beth, if I ex- 
plained it to you. But you will know the difference 
when you are as old as I am. You know the difference 
between our darling mother and Mrs. Homer, don’t 
you?” 

“Oh, yes. Mother was good, kind, and gentle, with 
pretty, small hands and feet, and Mrs. Homer is ugly 
and coarse, with big rough hands and feet, and talks 
loud and yells at the little Homers. When she is 
mad she swears. Body says I shan’t talk to her children. 


22 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


’cause they are real poor white trash ; but mother said 
to treat them kindly. She was so good to everybody, 
and they seemed to realize they were not her equals and 
treated her with great respect. Amily, why are you al- 
ways saying you are going away to New York and Eu- 
rope to make your own way.?^ I don’t see how you are 
going to leave Dobson and me.” 

“I wiU leave you with Pap and Aunt Dilsy. She 
will take care of you all. I just must go, Beth; you 
don’t know. Something is just calling me. I hear it 
in the ripple of the brook, the sigh of the wind, and 
in the bird’s song. Body says I am no good trying to 
learn to cook and help her. She loves you, Beth, and 
she says you always try when she shows you how to 
make biscuits, and she says I will never learn. Well, 
maybe I won’t, ’cause I just hate it, and I guess I won’t 
ever learn it. When one hates a thing one never learns 
to do it well.” 

“Amily, do tell me why you are going away. What 
do you want to do.^” said Beth. 

“I want to write books and paint pictures that people 
will want to look at, and I want to see the big, beautiful 
world, and be of it as well as in it.” 

“I don’t see how you are going to do it without 
money, friends, or beauty,” answered Beth. 

This caused Amily to blush a little and she said: 
“You are right, Beth. I have no beauty, only good 
health and good will, but I just feel that I am going. 
Yes, I shall hate to leave you all, but I shall come back 
some time, when I have grown weary of it all, as Mr. 
Weicliff said I should. Oh, but I cannot think that I 
will ever tire of all the beautiful things to see and 
learn.” 

Things dragged along in the same uninteresting. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


23 


monotonous way for a year. One day Amily had ridden 
up on the mountains on the flea-bitten gray horse that 
her father usually rode. She had Dobson on behind her 
and, coming down slowly, chatting to Dobson, all at 
once said: “Listen, I hear someone calling.” Going on 
a little further the boy whistled, and an answer came, 
which they knew was from Body. She had come out 
hunting them, and said : “Come on, Amily, and let me 
have old Madge. I must go over to Possum Trot after 
Dr. Walker; your Pa is laying on his bed an’ can’t 
speak. Go on to him. I went in to see why he don’t 
come out after his mail as he always do, an’ he laying 
there and can’t speak to me.” 

Amily jumped off the horse and Dilsy rode off at a 
gallop. Amily and Dodson, very much frightened, ran 
on to the house, to find Beth sitting by their father, try- 
ing to get him to speak. They both rubbed his hands 
and put water in his face, but he did not regain con- 
sciousness till the doctor came. The doctor felt the un- 
conscious man’s pulse and listened to his heart beat, 
then shook his head, but gave him a hypodermic injec- 
tion of a strong heart stimulant. At last the father 
opened his eyes, and said, “Doctor, I was most gone.” 
He looked at Dilsy and told her to take the children 
out, as he had something to say to the doctor. 

“Doctor, I believe it is all up with me; tell me, is it 
not so.?^ You are a good friend, and I know you won’t 
deceive me. How long do you think I can hold out.^” 

“Mr. Freelanhisen, you are a frank man, and I won’t 
deceive you. You can last only an hour or so, till that 
stimulant loses its effect. Is there anything I can do 
for you.?’^ 

“Yes, doctor. That box there contains some family 
papers, and I have a three thousand dollar insurance 


24 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


policy. See that these children and old Dilsy get a 
square deal. I would wish to live till my son from St. 
Louis could get here, but I know that is impossible, so 
I want you to take charge of these papers till he comes. 
You can send for him, but I will have passed on. Doc- 
tor, my life has been a sort of disappointment to me, 
but it is my own fault ; no one else to blame. My good 
wife left me eight years ago, and I have missed her so. 
I did not know what she was to me or how dependent 
I was on her till she was gone and it was too late. I 
did not appreciate her until it was too late, too late, and 
I guess I have been waiting and wanting to go. Life 
has lost all interest, doctor. My breath is shorter and 
I cannot breathe. I will say good-by to my children.” 

The doctor stepped to another door and motioned to 
Amily to come to him. She came with a scared, white 
face, but not giving away to tears, like Beth. Aunt 
Sally Jones and her husband had gotten there with Dob- 
son, who had gone over to tell them to come. The doc- 
tor met them and told them to go in. To Beth and 
Amily, “Your father cannot live; he is almost dying 
now. He wants to say good-by. Come with me.” He 
took Beth by one hand and Dobson by the other. Amily 
had preceded them. She went to the bedside and said, 
“Pap, are you going like mother dear did, and leave us 

“Yes, Amily, I must leave you. Come, Dilsy. Dilsy, 
you have been a good and faithful woman, like of my 
family, instead of my servant. Now I leave these chil- 
dren in your care. Live on here. The money I leave 
is for you as well as the rest to live on. Keep up the 
little garden and Dobson will help you. He is ten now, 
and Tao will come and will help you. He and you used 
to be the breadwinners. Now he is making his own way 
with his little family. You will have to fight it out with 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


25 


only Dobson and Beth. Amily is no help, and, won’t 
stay, I fear. Now good-by.” Taking his hand Dilsy 
broke down crying, like the two children. Amily, dry- 
eyed and scared, took her father’s hand and said in a 
clear voice, “Good-by, Pap.” 

Holding Dobson by the hand and calling him son, the 
father breathed his last. Aunt Sally Jones took the 
children out in Amily’s room and tried to console them, 
Amily helping her by talking to Beth. Dobson looked 
at her often. He had cried himself limp, and said: 
“Amily, why don’t you cry? Don’t you care.?” 

“Yes, dear, I feel like you do, but this is my starting 
point, and I must not give way to tears for what I can- 
not help.” 

Freelanhisen had never treated his children with af- 
fection. He was proud of them, but never let them 
know it. He was exacting of them, and, in fact, knew 
and saw as little of them as possible. 

The next day they held the funeral, the brother and 
sister-in-law coming from St. Louis. It was indeed sad, 
as they laid the body in the little cemetery among the 
Ozarks. When all had gone back in the two-horse 
wagon, Amily stayed alone, saying: “I will come on 
later.” 

It was only half a mile to the house, and after they 
were out of sight Amily sat on the new earth and stones 
beside the grave and, putting her face in her hands, 
wept the first tears since her father’s death. I fear the 
tears were more on account of self-pity. She was say- 
ing, “Now I will go. No one now has the right or au- 
thority to stop me.” 

The brother had married the daughter of a fine old 
Missouri statesman and judge, a man of money and 
lands. But he had acquired his property by hard strug- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


gles, with a big family, and he thought his children 
should make their way as he had. He admired the fine 
young Tao Freelanhisen and gladly gave his daughter 
to him, as he was an industrious, honorable fellow. 
When asked if he were going to give his daughter any 
help when she married the poor young business man, he 
would say : “That boy doesn’t need help ; he will make 
his way. He does not want help. When he does, there 
will be time enough.” 

Indeed his help was not needed. In a few years his 
son-in-law had a large business of his own, also two 
beautiful sons. His wife, hke her father, was (the gift 
of God) an honorable, true, good, and beautiful woman. 
From childhood Amily had been drawn to this sister-in- 
law. She said : “This J ane Red Ramy that my brother 
is to marry is coming to us as a blessing.” Amily’s 
mother had said: “I feel so too.” And sure enough, 
whenever there was a question to settle or advice to be 
asked it fell to Jane Red Ramy. All the family loved 
her, but between her and Amily there was a congeniality, 
although two natures could not be more unlike. Amily 
said that her Sister Jane Red understood her when no 
one else did. The family would say that Amily was 
lazy, always dreaming, just because she didn’t want to 
work. Jane would say: “No, Amily is not lazy, but 
she cannot do drudgery. She will write or sew all day- 
long without a complaint, but on the other hand she will 
not sweep a floor or dust the piano ; it is too laborious.” 

After the funeral Tao had to return to his business, 
but his wife remained a while with them, giving advice 
and telling old Dilsy to stay with Beth and Dobson and 
that to see that they had everything as they had while 
their father was with them. 

Jane had a talk with Amily and tried to persuade 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


27 


her to give up the idea of going alone out into the 
world, and warned her of all the bumps she would get 
and how the hard, cruel world would criticize and mis- 
understand her. Amily would not promise, and tears 
rolled down her cheeks as she said: “Jane, dear, you 
know how it is and you know I will go the very first 
chance I get.” Jane patted her on the shoulder and 
said: “Amily, I would help you if I could. Your 
brother Tao is so opposed to your going that he will not 
hear to it, as he told you, and if you go he will be ever- 
lastingly offended.” 

“Yes, yes, I know. He told me. I may seem head- 
strong, but I am sure to go some time.” 

Jane kissed her and said: “Maybe after a while you 
will feel more contented.” 

They stood under a large beautiful tree, with birds 
singing all around, everything so peaceful and hushed, 
a holy quiet. 

Jane raised her pretty, expressive eyes to the over- 
hanging mountains and then turned to Amily and said : 
“I don’t know what makes me feel so much older than 
you. When I am with you I always feel like mothering 
you, and yet I am only four years older. Maybe it is 
because I so thoroughly understand your nature. Some- 
times I am so weary myself of the big noisy St. Louis 
that I would love to fly away to this peaceful solitude 
and you. My two lovely boys hold me, and make me 
take up the routine of every-day, monotonous life. Tao 
thinks of business all the time and doesn’t think of the 
artistic, while I am full of it, as well as being domestic. 
Every heart has its secret bitterness.” 

They strolled back to supper. Aunt Dilsy had fried 
chicken and corn cakes and fruit for them. Jane 
praised everything, telling Aunt Dilsy that this was the 


m 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


best sweet milk and honey and that the fried chicken 
was fit for the gods. The old black woman said : “Now, 
Miss Jane, I knows you always says things to make 
folks feel good. Dem chickens jes rase demselfs, run- 
ning ’bout in des rocks picking up grasshoppers and 
things, and de bees jes make dis honey out of dem flow- 
ers you see hanging from de rocks.” 

“Oh, columbine and rhododendron! is it not beauti- 
ful.?” 

“Yes, Miss Jane, you need not trouble you’ pretty 
head bout des chillen, cause I can take care of ’em. 
Most of the things we eats jes grows. De cows take 
care of dey seifs — all I got to do is to milk and make the 
butter. If you and Mr. Tao send the chillen clothes, I 
can do de rest. I promis’ Marse Tom Connally I going 
to care fo’ Miss Amily. She done gone now, an’ I gwine 
to take care of her children.” 

“You are good and loyal, and I know you will do 
your best. Beth and Dobson will continue at school 
at Possum Trot.” 

The next morning the old two-horse wagon came 
around to take Jane to the railroad station, to go back 
home. It was a sad parting, she holding Amily’s hand 
till the train was moving. 

“Tell me, Amily, when you make up your mind to go 
and write me always.” The train was moving now, Dob- 
son, Beth and Dilsy all following to the end of the plat- 
form, then waving as long as the train was in sight, — 
even when it was lost to sight. 

When they went back home the mail had preceded 
them, and they were each eager to see what they had. 
There was a letter for their father from California, and 
Beth exclaimed : “Oh, a letter for Amily.” 

Amily grasped it and ran away up the path between 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the big rocks to a secluded spot where she always sat 
and meditated. This morning it was beautiful, with 
trumpet flowers and columbine hanging about the seat 
and the dew still glistening like myriads of diamonds on 
the leaves and grass. A mockingbird was singing in a 
scrub pine tree above her head. She hesitated to break 
the seal of the letter as she was awed by this beauty, 
and asked herself: “Why, oh, why, can’t I be con- 
tented with this and my homely coarse girl and boy 
friends here in Arkansas! No, no, I cannot! I am 
not of it, like Ann Hopkins and Mary Green. They 
can be happy here.” She then tremblingly broke the 
seal of her letter and she read this letter : 

“My Dear Amily: 

I have just read the sad news of the death of my 
friend, your father. It is needless to say I was shocked, 
as I left him well so short a time since. Why did you not 
send for me.? Of course your brother came from St. 
Louis and you really did not need me, but I might have 
said some word of comfort to you. Now I am going to 
make you a loan or gift, whichever you wish it to be. 
Chance has favored me beyond my wildest expectations, 
and I enclose this check for one thousand dollars. Use 
it as you choose. I wish you would take it as a gift, 
and I feel that it is a debt, in fact, for all your little 
kindnesses at your home when I was there almost an in- 
valid. I have regained my health and will leave this 
place in another month, later going to Europe and 
Monte Carlo. Hoping to see you some time again; I 
am your friend. Remember me to Aunt Dilsy and kiss 
Beth and Dobson for me. 

Sincerely your friend, 

Lorraine Weicliff.” 


30 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


She read and reread the letter, and then burst out 
weeping for joy. She took the check and handled it over 
and over and said: ‘‘A fortune! Must I keep it.?* Is it 
right Yes, I will; he says I can take it as a loan, if I 
do not want it as a gift ; and if I succeed I will send it 
back with good interest.” 

She hugged the check to her bosom and sauntered 
back to the house, wondering how to tell Beth and Body. 
She met Beth with her dog Bose running along, and 
when Beth saw her sister she said : “Amily, you have had 
good news in your letter, ’cause your face shows it, and 
you have cried too, for your eyes are red. Who wrote 
to you.P” 

“Beth, you are right ; I am happy and sad too. I did 
cry, but it was for joy, but when I think of leaving you 
and Dobson and dear Body, I cry.” 

Beth looked at her sister with a startled look and 
said : “Who is your letter from, and when are you go- 
ing?” 

Amily put her arms around Beth and said: “My 
prayers have been answered. Mr. WeiclifF has loaned 
me a thousand dollars, and I am going to take it to go 
to New York, and, Beth, I will get more money and I 
will send for you and Dobson.” 

“But, Amily, how can you get money.? And would 
Pap let you take this money from a man.?” 

“Oh, don’t sermonize now; I do not stop to think of 
my father’s wish. He never expressed many about me 
here. I don’t know yet how I shall do it. I will go in a 
few days.” 

Beth was crying, but soon Amily pacified her by tell- 
ing her she would write her nearly every day and prom- 
ising to come home soon. 


CHAPTER IV 


On the following Monday Amily was all ready. The 
little cheap trunk was packed with her clothes, and at 
the very bottom she had placed the papers her father 
had told her were all about her ancestry in England. 
She told no one that she had taken those papers. 

When the train started for Memphis and Chatta- 
nooga, on the route from the little village in the Ozarks 
called Possum Trot to New York, the brother and sis- 
ter were with her and also the faithful old black woman. 
They stayed with her until it was time to leave, and then 
there were kissing and good-byes and tears. 

“Aunt Dilsy, you won’t miss me after a few days,” 
said Amily. 

“No, I ain’t gwine miss you’ work, cause yo’ never 
done none, but I gwine to miss yo’ jes cause yo’ is yo’. 
Dat is all de why I gwine miss yo’.” 

“Now, Body, say, Must because I love you, Amily,’ 
and I will have that to remember.” 

“Go way now, honey, you knows dat.” 

“Yes, I know it. There, the train is moving, good- 
by.” 

The old woman looked at the window where Amily 
had taken her place and said: “Jes ’cause I love yo’, 
Miss Amily.” 

“God bless you. Body, and keep you, Beth, and Dob- 
son till I see you again.” 

When the train had turned a curve in the mountains 
31 


32 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


and Possum Trot was hidden from view Amily lay back 
in her seat and tried to think and realize what she was 
doing and where she was going. Everything in her mind 
was a chaos. She felt in her coat pocket for her hand- 
kerchief, and found the little package which Aunt Dilsy 
had slipped in her hand as the train was moving. She 
thought she had better see what it was. Rolled up in 
some faded tissue paper were a very old miniature of 
her father and a funny little recent picture of her 
mother. Inside those was another roll and, opening this, 
she found a hundred dollars in paper, the savings of 
years from Dilsy ’s selhng blackberries and eggs and 
such things that she could spare from the family needs. 
This made the girl break down. She said to herself : 
“This is from my mother in heaven. Body is acting for 
her. Oh, how she has saved when she needed this money ; 
would not spend it save for what she could not know — 
that I would go out in the big world all alone to make 
my way. Well, there is another debt I owe with much 
larger interest than Mr. Weicliff’s thousand dollar 
check. I do wonder what Tao will do and say when he 
knows I have really gone. I fear he will put the police 
on my track to fetch me back. Beth will write them aU 
about my going.” 

While this soliloquy was going on, she fell asleep and 
slept for some hours, when she was suddenly awakened 
by some harsh voice yelling: “All out for Memphis, 
Tennessee I” She sat still, as she was going on in that 
train via Chattanooga. 

Pretty soon a boy came to the window where she sat 
and offered some sandwiches for sale. She declined 
them, as she had her lunch with her, but it was a remin- 
der to her to eat, the first she had thought of eating, as 
she had not felt hungry. She opened a basket filled with 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the good homemade pickles, preserves, honey, fried 
chicken and beaten biscuits. In a little package which 
Dobson had put in were a few hazel nuts. When she 
opened the package she found a few lines written in his 
boyish way: 

“Amily, dear, we are all sorry you will go and leave 
us. I have been crying out in the horse lot about your 
going. I would not let anyone know how much I cared. 
Amily, you are a brick and I don’t blame you now like 
I did at first, ’cause I can understand now. For I am 
going, too, as soon as I am sixteen years old. I am do- 
ing things and studying inventions. I didn’t tell any- 
one ; I was afraid you would laugh at me. Now you are 
going I can write it. Amily, I promised you I would 
be a good boy and take care of Beth and Aunt Dilsy. I 
only meant just till I am sixteen, then maybe you will 
be home again.” 

She finished reading that dirty little letter, written on 
a sheet torn from a copy book, pressed it to her lips 
and said: ‘‘I will not let the tears come. This is the 
last link to that home in the Ozarks, and I must begin 
the new life now. I did not know Dobson had such deep 
feeling ; he never told anyone where he went or what he 
did. A quiet, seemingly happy, healthy, well-developed 
fellow.” 

She ate very little and, doing up her lunch again, she 
was disturbed by a person blustering into the car and 
coming to her saying: “I think. Miss, you are in the 
wrong berth. This is mine ; my ticket calls for No. 13.” 

“Oh, am I.'’ The conductor put me here and I am 
sorry, but when he comes in again he can assign me to 
another.” 


34 < 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Well, I don’t know when he will come back, and I 
want my place now, to place my things in.” 

“Oh, certainly ; excuse me,” she said, rising and 
standing in the aisle, as the other seats seemed to be 
filled. 

This fluffy person turned and, seeing Amily standing, 
said, condescendingly: “You could sit in that corner 
for a while if you would hold this box on your lap.” 

“No, thank you; I have been sitting so long I don’t 
in the least mind standing a while,” returned Amily. 

An old lady with a beautiful pale face and mild, faded 
blue eyes saw Amily and, moving an umbrella and 
satchel off the seat beside her, invited Amily to sit 
down. She took the seat beside her, thanking the lady 
politely. The lady remarked about the train being so 
crowded and said that they were six hours late, which 
would bring them in New York at ten o’clock in the 
morning. 

“Oh, I am so glad,” said Amily. “I am a stranger in 
New York and would prefer to get there by daylight.” 

“But have you telegraphed your friends 

“No ; I have no friends there. I am glad I left berth 
No. 13, as I am so fortunate as to find the train late. 
I am so glad you told me, and I am just a bit supersti- 
tious about No. 13.” 

“I can readily see you are a young girl from the 
South by your superstitions.” 

“Yes,” said Amily; “I guess our black mammies teach 
us those superstitions in our cradles.” 

“You will have no one to meet you.f^ Where will you 
stop.?” 

“Really, I don’t know I I haven’t thought about that. 
I am going to New York to find something to do,” an- 
swered Amily. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


35 


“Then you do not know what hotel your will go to ?” 

“I wish you would tell me of one — I mean one that is 
inexpensive, as my means are quite limited and I will 
have to choose an inexpensive place at first, a cheap ho- 
tel till I can find a small room, and then I will board 
myself.” 

“What kind of employment do you wish?” her friend 
asked. 

“I cannot be choice about that at first. I must take 
what I can get.” 

“Was there nothing at your home, school teaching 
or sewing that you could do? I feel very sorry for a 
young person in that big city, fighting for a living — or 
mere existence, as it is for some. If I am a judge, and 
you don’t mind my saying it, I think, with your inexpe- 
rience and your not knowing what to do, you will have 
a hard struggle. So many young girls at your age hope 
to get to New York, thinking it is the mecca of all that 
is fine and easy. Ah, so many before you have failed 
and gone back to their homes to die, broken-hearted, 
ruined in health and old prematurely. I hate to see a 
pretty young thing like you launch out into that great 
surging mass of humanity, to sink perhaps in a pit of 
despair and perhaps ruin.” 

“Oh, dear,” said Amily, “don’t predict such awful 
things for me.” 

“No, no, not for you individually. Let me see.” Tak- 
ing out of her handbag a pencil and paper, she wrote 
the address of a small but respectable place on Broad- 
way, and gave it to Amily and told her she hoped she 
would succeed where thousands and thousands have 
failed. She took her hand and Amily said, “I will as- 
sure you I will keep good. I may starve in your streets, 
but, never fear, I will keep my honor.” 


36 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

“Well, then, I have hope for a girl that talks like 
that.” 

The conductor came then and asked for her ticket. 
She gave it to him, and he said: “I put you in No. 
13.” 

“Yes, but a lady claimed it and this lady invited me 
to sit here.” He took her package and handbag and 
started to put them back, but she protested. “Please, 
let me remain here if I do not crowd this lady. I do 
not wish to occupy No. 13.” 

The conductor smiled and shrugged his shoulders and 
passed on. The lady told her to keep her seat as they 
would soon be in New York. 

The lady called for a pillow and the porter gave 
Amily one also. She closed her eyes, but not in sleep, 
as her vis-a-vis had done. She was excited, as she knew 
she was so near the city, though she was outwardly 
very composed. 

She never thought of the lonely road before her, 
fraught with every peril. She trembled as with a 
seizure of some sort and opened her eyes, to see the 
station at Jersey City. Just then the porter began to 
gather up satchels and luggage and said, “We are ’most 
to the ferry, lady.” 

When they had left the train and were at the ferry 
a fine looking young man greeted Amily’s acquaintance, 
embracing her, and said, “Mother, your train is late 
six hours.” 

“Yes,” she answered, and, turning to Amily, said, 
“This is my son,” not calling either of their names, not 
knowing Amily’s, as she had not asked it and Amily had 
not volunteered to give it. Then, “My son, are you in 
our big motor car?” 

“Yes, mother,” he answered. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


37 


‘‘Have we room for another passenger?” 

“Certainly,” he answered. The mother turned to 
Amily and said, “We drive right out Broadway by 
the Hotel, and will gladly take you with us.” 

Of course Amily accepted, and after crossing the 
river, they were speeding along Broadway. Amily was 
all eyes and ears. The terrible noise and din of New 
York enraptured her so that she had not noticed that 

the machioe had stopped in front of the Hotel, and 

a porter had run out to take the hand satchel. She 
collected herself and thanked them over and over again, 
and had turned to go when she said to the lady, who 
held out her hand: I would like to remember whom to 
be ever grateful to for this kindness, if you don’t 
mind.” 

“Certainly ; I had forgotten.” She handed her card, 
and on it was “Mrs. Augusta Howard, 2203 West 158th 
Street, New York City.” 

Amily bowed to the young man, who had not ceased 
to stare at her, till she was so embarrassed she could not 
look in his face. He offered his hand to her and said, 
“Miss— Miss ” 

“Oh, Freelanhisen,” she answered, and was up with 
the porter who had taken her satchel. 

She went with him to the office and the clerk pushed 
a register to her. She blushed, not quite understanding, 
and the clerk, seeing her embarrassment, said : “Do you 
wish a room with bath? What floor.?” 

She got up her courage now and said, “No, sir; I 
wish the very cheapest room you have. I shall not mind 
the locality or inconveniences.” 

The man surveyed her from head to foot and back 
again, then answered: “Two dollars per day is our 
cheapest room — on eighth floor.” 


38 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“I shall only want the room a few days, and would 
prefer to have it as cheap as possible.” 

“Well, young lady, that’s the best I can do for you,” 
in a brush business-like manner, motioning for a boy to 
show her up to the room, and saying, “Give the porter 
the check for your baggage, if you have any.” 

She was so weak from all the excitement and con- 
fusion that she was getting a headache, a thing she 
never had before. When she was ushered in the room 
and the boy opened the windows, he turned to her and 
said, “Ice-water, Miss 

She answered, “Yes.” He was out of the room before 
she looked a second time and back with a pitcher of 
ice-water before she had her hat off. She shut the 
door behind him and locked it and then threw herself on 
the bed and began to realize where she was and wonder 
what to do first. 

She could not collect her thoughts and she concluded 
to rest that day and night and just think. “To- 
morrow morning I will start out early.” And then she 
soliloquized: “Where? and what for? I will wait for 
an inspiration; all things come to those who wait.” 

She slept late the next morning, awakening with the 
bright sunshine streaming in the window. She looked 
at her watch — a cheap dollar one — and found that it 
was after eight o’clock. She saw on the wall by the 
electric light button a notice, the usual one : “One ring 
for porter, two for waiter.” 

She dressed and pushed the button for waiter. When 
he came she asked him where the dining-room was and 
if it was too late for breakfast. He replied that in New 
York that was considered an early breakfast. She 
followed him to the dining-room, where he seated her 
at a small table next to one where four men were break- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


39 


fasting. They looked at her so impudently that she 
never looked in their direction again. She wondered 
why everyone looked at her so strangely. She thought : 
“I am not conspicuously dressed. Have I something 
about me out of the ordinary.?” 

Poor girl I she could not know that it was written all 
over her — from the country. Still, she was worth look- 
ing at, so full of health, youth and, some would say, 
beauty, for the bright yellowish brown eyes were so 
pleasing in their expression they seemed to invite atten- 
tion. Was it magnetism in them.? 

The waiter gave her a bill of fare and stood by to 
take the order. She looked it over and saw it was 
European plan, but how could she find anything on it 
that she could afford to eat.? She read: steak — two 
dollars; eggs — fifty cents; pot of coffee — one dollar. 
She looked at the waiter and said: “Have you no card 
for a single person.? I could not eat a steak or drink 
a pot of coffee.” 

He smiled and said, “No, that is all we have; but I 
will serve half portions to you.” She was so embar- 
rassed she scarcely knew what she was doing; then 
she said, “You may bring me some bread and butter 
and -a cup of coffee.” He saw that she was not accus- 
tomed to hotels, and on account of the eyes that seemed 
to tell him, “Don’t you see how poor and embarrassed 
I am,” he went away and brought a very tiny coffee pot, 
some bread and butter and a fried egg. She thanked 
him and began to eat. She had eaten so little since she 
had left the Ozarks that she ate with a good relish. 
She soon finished, and by that time the dining-room 
was full of stylish women with their hats on. 

“No one seems to be at home in this place,” she 
thought. 


40 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


She sat for half an hour waiting for the waiter to 
bring the bill ; finally he came. “I beg pardon, madam, 
but I have my regular tables to serve; sorry to have 
kept you waiting.” He handed her the bill and her 
face flamed when she saw that it was two dollars. She 
paid it and left ten cents for a tip. The waiter smiled 
without thanking her and went away. She thought she 
heard him say something to another waiter about even 
change. As she went out all eyes were on her and one 
foppish-looking man followed her to the stairway, offer- 
ing her the morning New York Sun. She, not look- 
ing at him, said, “No, thank you,” and passed on up the 
elevator. When she got back to her room she felt 
refreshed and rested, but homesick and lonely. She 
said to herself: “No more tears. I see this is not 
going to be a rosy path that I have chosen. ‘So you 
make your bed, so you shall lie.’ ” 

She took her handbag and counted her money. She 
had twenty dollars in it. She had made up her mind 
not to touch her other money, but to make this last a 
month. “I must not eat,” she said, “because this must 
last me until I find something to do.” She put the 
money back and saw the card of Mrs. Augusta Howard. 
She read it over and placed it back in her purse. “I 
will go out now to see what I can find. I must get a 
small room somewhere.” 

She asked the bellboy if he could tell her where she 
could find a small, cheap room. He looked at her and 
started on, but he caught a glance of her eyes and 
came back, saying, “Young lady, you can’t find no 
cheap room on this side. You will have to go down 
below Twelfth Street. But you don’t look like that’s 
the place for you.” 

“Why, tell me why? I am such a stranger.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


41 


“Well, I don’t know how to tell you, only the people 
who live in them cheap places is toughs and the women 
have painted hair and faces.” 

“Well, dear little man, I am very poor and cannot 
afford an expensive place. You know I shall not paint 
my face and hair, and I am not tough.” 

“No, I know ’em.” 

“Maybe you could direct me,” she said. 

“Yes,” he answered, “I can tell you how to find the 
neighborhood.” 

She took out her pencil and wrote as he directed. 
“Is it far.?” she asked. 

He answered, “It might be pretty far for a tender- 
foot.” 

“But I can walk, as my feet are not tender,” she 
said. 

The boy winked, laughed, and went on, refusing a 
nickel she had offered him. He looked back and said, 
“You’ll need that to come home on after you walk down 
there.” 

She walked down Broadway, looking in t^e windows 
and pushing her way through the throngs of people 
and all conceivable kinds of vehicles. She made her 
way to Twenty-third Street crossing, and tried to get 
a chance to get over. She was so afraid of the big 
motor cars and so afraid of being run over that she 
scarcely knew what to do, when she saw the big police- 
man in the middle of the street beckoning for her to 
come. She ran to him and he caught her arm and, look- 
ing at her, gave it a little squeeze. She did not have 
time to resent this impertinence; she was pushed on by 
the mass of humanity. She stopped to look at the 
Flatiron building, and as she stood looking a gentle- 
man, as she thought, spoke to her : “Young lady, have 


42 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

you lost your way? Can I be of any assistance to 
you?” 

She remembered what her sister, Jane Red, had 
warned her of, and natural instinct told her he did 
not mean well, so she said, “No,” and passed on. 
Finally she met a woman leading a child and she asked 
her to direct her, showing her the address the boy had 
given her. The woman gave a hurried nod in the direc- 
tion and hastened on. 

“They are all in such a hurry no one has time to 
even be polite.” She kept on going, then she turned 
west and kept going. She saw an old residence place 
with a card on the door, “Rooms to let.” She went 
to the door and pulled the bell, which seemed to be out 
of fix, as it did not ring. 

She then tapped with her parasol and a slatternly 
looking woman with faded hair and painted face looked 
out from a window above and in a rasping, steel voice 
said: “That bell’s out of fix. What do you want?” 

“I wished to see about engaging a room.” 

The woman turned back, speaking to some one inside, 
“Mag, is that stairway room open? Gip’s gone, ain’t 
she?” Then she looked out, saying, “I will show you 
what I got.” 

She met Amily at the door and led her through a 
long dark, dingy hall, with rooms on either side. As 
she passed, some of the doors were open and she could 
see some awful-looking women and men. In one room 
she heard glasses and a man in there swearing. The 
woman took her to the extreme end of the hall and 
opened a door under a stairway, showing her a dark and 
dirty place. She told her this was a nice pretty room, 
and only twelve dollars per week. She went to a sort of 
hole and called it a window. A pale light struggled in 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 43 

and Amily turned around out of the room and said, “I 
don’t think I can pay that much.” 

The half-drunken woman glared at her and said, “I 
hope you don’t expect that lovely room for less. You 
must have a mighty poor fellow if he can’t give you the 
price.” Amily was shocked and hurried out of the 
place without replying. Hurrying on till she was get- 
ting into a more disreputable part, she passed many 
houses now with signs on the doors, “Rooms to let,” 
but they were too uninviting. At last she saw a rather 
clean-looking girl about to enter one of these miserable- 
looking places with a notice on the window. She called 
to the girl, saying: “Will you kindly tell me where I 
could get a respectable cheap room.?” 

“Respectable.? I don’t know the meaning of that. My 
aunt lives in here and I room here. She makes me 
give her most all I earn. I work in the paper box 
factory and I have my young man, so I take one square 
meal with him at eight o’clock every night, and my aunt 
curses me because I don’t make him cough up more.” 

“Oh, that is terrible I And you are not married to the 
young man.? How can you take his money.?” 

“There is none of the girls down here married ; most 
of ’em are what you call sporting girls ; some few ugly 
ones work. I don’t have but one fellow, though he is a 
dandy good one. Come on in and see what my aunt 
has to show you.” 

She led the way to a miserable back room and entered 
without knocking. 

Two women were in the room, one reclining on a 
bed and the other sitting by a table eating some bread 
and drinking beer out of a tin can. One of the women 
looked at the girl and said to her in a kind of screech: 
“Where have you been now.? Gadding.? Why didn’t 


44 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


you bring something to eat with you? There’s nothing 
here,” tossing half a loaf of stale bread on the table., 
‘‘What’s that you brought in with you now?” 

“This is a sissy I found looking for a place — a room.” 

“What she got to put up for it?” 

Amily said, “What do you charge?” 

“Well, I take what they can bring in — if it’s not too 
little. But you are a fly-looking girl, and ought to put 
up a lot to stay here. And if you ain’t got any fellows 
you can git ’em.” 

With that Amily left as quickly as possible, the 
young girl following her to the street. 

“Now wait, don’t run away; she was only kiddin’ 
you,” she said. 

“I thank you, for I know you mean to be kind,” said 
Amily, “I see I am in the wrong place.” 

She started back the way she had come and got back 
to Twenty-first street, and went up the front stairs of 
one of those used-to-be mansions and rang the bell. 
A woman came and Amily told her business. The 
woman said she had a room that was occupied by a 
milliner, but the woman wanted a nice quiet person 
to take part of it. Amily asked the price and she 
was told that the room was six dollars a week. That 
would mean three dollars a week apiece, so Amily said : 
“When can I find the person here so I could arrange 
about it?” 

“She ought to be here now. She comes to her room 
when she comes to her lunch. She works on Sixth 
Avenue, and she is near enough to stop a few minutes.” 

While they were talking the milliner came in the 
front door, and she stopped as the woman called to 
her and told her Amily’s business. She seemed glad, 
and Amily thought she might stand to occupy the 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


45 


room with her, as she was such an improvement over 
any person she had spoken to since she left the hotel. 
The milliner unlocked the door and showed Amily the 
room, and told her she would have to take her turn in 
taking care of it. Amily agreed to pay three dollars a 
week and help clean the room. 

She looked at the bed, which looked wide, and 
thought: “I can have the room alone all day, because 
she is working. Then I shall soon find what I shall 
do.” 

The next day she moved from the hotel. Oh, how 
she did hate to go, and leave all this comfort. She 
counted her money after she had paid her bill and 
gone up to the room to get her hand baggage. “I really 
must get to doing something to earn money,” she 
thought, “I can mend lace very well and I can do beauti- 
ful hand sewing. Maybe I can get something in that 
line. If I can only get enough to subsist on.” 

When she got settled in her new quarters she felt 
that now she must go and try to find some lace mend- 
ing. 

When her roommate came in at the lunch hour she 
asked her if she could tell her of some place where they 
mended and cleaned lace. The girl told her of Obras 
and Pigot’s, and then said to her, “If I was as good- 
looking as you are I know I would not work. You could 
have all the fellows wild about you.” 

Amily said, “I don’t care to have them wild about 
me. I want honest work to make my own living.” 

The girl shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the 
floor by the window and began to smoke a cigarette. 
The smoke was almost suffocating, but Amily saw it 
was useless to complain. She coughed and cleared her 
throat, but the girl took no notice of that, and Amily 


46 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


rose and began to put on her hat and veil to go out, 
asking again to be directed to the lace shops. 

The girl answered, “I am going back to work and I 
will go along and show you Pigot’s.” They walked on 
together until they came to an old house that had once 
been a handsome residence, with a gilded ostrich over 
the door. She parted from the girl, thanking her for 
her kindness in showing her the place. When she 
entered the shop she was met by a dark-browed French 
woman and she asked for lace to mend. The woman 
told her she had some very fine lace to be mended, but 
she had to have an experienced person. 

Amily said, “I do it very well,” and then she asked 
the woman what she paid, and was told that she paid by 
the piece. She brought some lace out and showed her, 
telling her the lace was very fine Brussels Point and 
originally had cost one hundred dollars per yard. Amily 
said, ‘T am not afraid to undertake it.” The woman 
asked where she came from and where she was living. 

Amily was almost afraid to tell where she was living. 
The woman seemed rather uncertain. Finally she 
looked Amily over again, and searching into those 
honest, clear, yellowish brown eyes, she decided. 

“Well, I will give you these twelve yards of the less 
expensive and this bodice. When can you do them.^ 
They must be done by next Thursday one week. Can 
you do them by that time.?*” 

Amily said, “I will try.” 

“Maybe you better not take the bodice,” suggested 
the woman. 

“I will take it, and if I see I cannot finish it in time 
I will bring it back,” replied Amily. 

“Very well. Miss Freelanhisen,” answered the woman. 

Amily took the package and was hurrying on when 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


47 


she heard her name called, which gave her a start. 
Looking up, she met the outstretched hand of Haynes 
Howard, the son of her benefactress of the train. She 
knew him at once, but was very shy and reserved. He 
said he was very glad to see her again because his 
mother had thought of her and had liked her so much, 
that she could not forget her, and had called with him at 

the Hotel to see her, the clerk of the hotel having 

told them that she had gone the next day without leav- 
ing any address. 

“We were very sorry to miss you and my mother has 
talked about you and wondered where you had gone. 
She will be glad to hear from you and know where you 
are located, so she can come to see you.” 

They walked on until they came to Amily’s abode. 
She was embarrassed and said: “I am sorry that I can 
not ask you to come in, but I have a small room here 
and am going to work.” 

He said, “Won’t you let me call with my mother.? 
She will be so delighted to see you again and you can- 
not deny her that pleasure, after all her worry about 
you. She, in a way, feels responsible for you, as she 
calls you her ‘little protegee’.” 

Amily hesitated and then bravely raised her eyes to 
his and said: “I could not ask your mother to come to 
this house and this place to see me. I had to take 
what I could get, and when I can afford a better 
neighborhood and home then I would love to see your 
good, kind mother. I hate these surroundings, but 
I cannot be choice.” 

By this time they were at the door and they were 
met by a mulatto woman and a white escort coming out. 
The woman was dressed in the flashiest way. The 
young man said, “Really, you will excuse me if I seem 


48 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


to presume, but you have made a mistake in choosing 
a place. This is no place for you. You must let us, 
or my mother, help you to find a suitable place.” 

Amily answered, “Oh, no, thank you, I will not be 
associated with these poor creatures at all. You see, 
I have succeeded in finding work to do,” holding the 
bundle out to him. 

“What kind of work, may I ask.'”’ 

“Certainly, it is lace mending from Pigot’s on 
Twenty-first Street.” 

She then bade him good-by without further parley. 


CHAPTER V 


When Amily got out the work and began, she 
thought: ‘T don’t like him, although he seems so kind 
and is the son of such a lovely woman. Still, I am never 
deceived; I cannot trust him.” She took the old lace 
and was mending and weaving and thinking. “I guess 
he is right, I am not in the right place. How can I 
help it.f* I cannot spend any money. I must earn 
enough to meet my expenses. I must not eat more than 
one meal a day, for I am strong and well. Oh, this must 
be a very, very disreputable place. These people swear 
and drink and I hear them all night long.” 

On the next Thursday, according to promise, she 
finished the lace, even the bodice, sitting up late at night 
to do so. When she took it back, Madame Pigot ex- 
amined it very carefully without comment and, going 
to a cash drawer, came back and gave Amily five dollars. 
She said, ‘T cannot pay you more, as you are an in- 
experienced person.” 

“Yes, but the work is perfectly satisfactory, is it 
not .?” 

The French woman turned a vivid red color under 
her brown skin, and in a most apologetic manner said, 
“My dear young lady, you don’t understand; I could 
not pay more to a beginner.” 

“I did not ask for more. I am quite thankful to get 
this, but if the work is what it should be I thought I 
should be paid the best price, that is, the price you pay 
experienced people.” 


49 


50 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Oh, yes, my dear; you see, of course, I am paying 
you quite a lot for this work.” 

“Yes, I guess so, and I thank you, madam.” She 
turned to leave the shop and the French woman called, 
“My dear, won’t you sit in the private room and have 
a demi-tasse with me.^” 

“No, thank you,” replied Amily. 

“Well, won’t you take the expensive lace to mend.f^” 

“Well, madam, I must do it as well as any, if you will 
let me take that fine old point which you showed me 
before.” 

“Yes, my dear, you do it tolerably well.” 

“Does your customer only want that elegant lace 
done tolerably.” 

“No, she wants it done the very best,” answered 
madam. 

“Then, madam, if you agree to pay me what is paid 
for the best, very well.” 

“I will give you ten dollars if you do that well,” 
said madam. 

“I think I had better go to Obra’s and some other 
places and find out what they pay for such work. I 
will have to work every day and late at night to finish 
that in a week.” 

“Oh, no hurry for this piece,” said the woman. 

“But I have to live and pay my expenses.” 

The woman knew she had not paid her a fair price 
and was afraid to let her go anywhere else, as menders 
of fine old lace were hard to find in New York. Often 
she had to send it to Brussels, and that took so long 
that she had no idea of losing Amily. 

“Well, I like you so much, and your work is very 
good, and I think if you will take this lace and do it 
very, very well, I will give you fifteen dollars. You can 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


51 


go elsewhere if you wish, but I don’t think they will pay 
an unknown laceworker as much as I pay.” 

“I will take this work, and if I can do it in ten days 
that will pay me.” She took the bundle and went out. 
She felt tired and weary, and she thought: “I must 
not get sick in this place. I had better take a car and 
ride out to the Park and rest among the trees; also 
get my lunch out near there.” 

She sat down under a large beautiful shade tree, 
when she reached the park, away from the crowd and 
secluded behind some shrubbery. She leaned against 
the tree, almost falling asleep, when suddenly she was 
startled by a baby voice saying, “I want my mama.” 

“Why, darling, where is your mama?” Amily asked. 

“Me not know,” the baby said, “me want my mama,” 
beginning to cry. 

“Baby dear, come here to me,” said Amily, and she 
took the beautiful child in her arms and began to 
soothe her, saying, “Don’t cry, pretty baby, we will 
find mama.” 

She took the child and went out in the Park, and 
began to search for the mother. 

She looked everywhere and made inquiry of all the 
nurses, but no one seemed to know the child or to have 
ever seen her before. Amily saw the child was the 
daughter of the rich, as she was dressed in the finest 
clothes. She noticed the little white shoes were soiled 
with dirt and clay of the park walks. She then noticed 
a policeman near and going up to him, told him the 
child was lost and crying for its mother. 

The policeman said: “We will drive with it to the 
other entrance of the park.” He called the police park 
wagon and Amily got in with the baby, the man offering 
to take it till she was seated. But the little thing 


62 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


clung to her neck, so she petted and soothed it till 
it stopped crying. 

“Now baby dear,” Amily said, “tell me your name.” 

“No, no, my mama,” was all she would say. 

They went everywhere in the Park, but could not find 
any one to claim the baby. Then the policeman said: 
“Miss, we will have to take it to headquarters. It 
won’t be very long till we hear from her mother.” 

Amily tried to give the child to him, but it was of 
no use, it would scream till it was purple in the face 
every time she attempted it. 

“I will go with you to the station,” Amily then said. 

When they got there the nurse had sent in a phone 
message and the chief officer had sent a message to One 
Hundred and Ninety-first Street to the parents of the 
child. 

By the time Amily and the child arrived the mother 
and father drove up in a large fine automobile, the 
mother weeping and the father excited. When the 
mother caught sight of the baby she ran to it and 
took it out of Amily’s arms. The little thing, seeing its 
mother, put its arms about her. Amily explained how 
the baby came to her behind the shrubbery, and how 
she had spent hours trying to find the mother or nurse, 
and failing had finally applied to a policeman. 

The father had paid something to the chief and Amily 
was about to go when the mother said, “Now, young 
lady, what shall we pay you for taking care of our 
darling for us?” 

Amily turned a scarlet color and proudly raised her 
head. “You must not pay me at all. I was only too 
glad to take the beautiful little distressed baby in 
my arms and try to find you. Oh, how could the nurse 
have left her unnoticed till she had strayed for blocks 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


63 


and blocks through that big park! She might have 
been run over and killed. I could not take pay for 
doing my duty, and she was so pretty and dear, she 
clung to me and would not let those big rough police- 
men take her from me.” 

“We wish to reward you in some way. Tell us what 
we can do for you.?” said the mother. 

“I am very poor and am almost a stranger in New 
York; I am here from the South to make my own 
living. At present I am living in a very cheap room 
with another working girl, and I was fortunate enough 
to find work.” 

“What kind of work.?” asked the lady. 

“I am lace mending. It is very particular and labor- 
ious work, and I had been to return some work which 
I had done, and get more,” said Amily, showing her 
bundle. “I had stopped in the Park to rest. I had 
worked day and night to finish it.” 

“Won’t you give me your address that we may come 
to see you, and perhaps I can help you in your lace 
mending.” 

Then Amily reluctantly gave the address, the lady 
thanking her and begging to drive her in the automo- 
bile home. They drove along Fifth Avenue and Amily 
was sorry when they turned in the direction of her 
room. When they put her down they took in the 
neighborhood at a glance and a troubled expression 
came over Mrs. Miller’s face. “Let us thank you 
again,” she said; “we can never repay you for finding 
and taking care of our little darling, never, and grati- 
tude seems so poor a thing.” 

Amily smiled, saying, “Dear little Mary Miller! she 
seemed to have found me. Didn’t you, beautiful.?” 
taking her and kissing her good-by over again. 


54 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


The child held out its hands to her as the machine 
drove away. Mrs. Miller saying, “Our baby wants you. 
I shall call on you again. Good-by.” 

Captain Miller raised his hat and they were soon 
out of sight. Amily went in the house and ate her 
lunch of some cheese, crackers, and bread and butter. 
She then unwrapped the bundle and sat down by the 
one window to her lace mending, and worked steadily 
until her room-mate. Ginger, came in. Ginger started 
to wash and fix up in her cheap finery to go to dinner 
with her best beau, as she called him: 

“Why do you sit there working when everyone 
else has stopped work and gone out to dinner, and 
to the picture shows. Park, or theatre asked Ginger. 
“Have you been to a theatre ever.?^” 

“Yes, in St. Louis,” answered Amily, “when I went 
to visit my brother Tao. I have seen Sothern and 
Bernhardt, and some of Shakespeare’s plays. I don’t 
care much for the lighter things I have seen.” 

“Hain’t you been down to Caster & Beals to see 
them gals dance and sing.^” 

“No,” replied Amily. 

“Well, you have missed a lot. My fellow takes me 
to some show like that every Saturday night. He sure is 
a good one, and is my steady.” 

Amily felt sorry for the poor ignorant girl. Ginger. 
She did not know any other name for her, as everyone 
called her Ginger. She was always kind to her when 
she came in the room. She never came in till very late 
at night, and for a few moments at noon. She did not 
have time for conversation then and Amily was spared 
that. But to-night she seemed in a very talkative mood 
and told Amily she loved her because she was the first 
person who had talked kindly to her. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


55 


‘‘Everyone else here curses me and calls me red- 
headed Ginger,’’ she said. 

“Well, no matter about the color of your hair, you 
have a fine suit of it and if you would not paint your 
face and would wear plain, neat clothes you would be 
a much better-looking girl. If you would save the 
money you work for and live a respectable life your 
young man friend would love and respect you and 
gladly marry you, and you could be a good and useful 
woman.” 

The girl seemed to stop and reflect. “If some other 
people were like you maybe I could do it. I cannot 
stop now ; I must just go on — on to my grave like this.” 

“You can stop if you make up your mind to and 
do it.” 

Someone called, “Ginger I” and the girl hurriedly left 
the room, saying: “I won’t disturb you when I come in 
because I am going to be out with my man nearly all 
night.” Amily’s only answer was, “Oh Ginger I think 
of what I have been saying to you.” 

Amily heard her come in at about five o’clock next 
morning and throw herself across the foot of the 
bed with all her clothes on. She was soon sound asleep. 
Amily arose at half past six and began on her lace 
work, and was happy because she had gotten along 
so well. She took a letter out of her pocket and read 
it over again. This is what she read: 

“Dearest Amily : 

“Oh, how glad we all were to get your dear letter. It 
was only the second one we have had. If you could 
have seen us all, how happy we were when I read it 
aloud. Body said, ‘Dat is my child. I raised dat 
smart child.’ You know, Amily, she did not call you 


56 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


smart at home. And Dobson called you ‘a dandy brick,’ 
and I was selfishly glad, because I know, Amily, as 
soon as you make some more money you will send for 
me. The pink gingham dress you sent me, made ready 
to fit me, was so pretty, and I thank you, Amily. Body 
thinks you are rich now almost. You ought to have 
let Mrs. Miller give you something for finding her 
baby. I know she would have given you a grand pearl 
necklace or a diamond ring, and if you did not want it 
you could have sent it to me. Amily, I wrote you in 
my last letter that brother Tao is going to have me 
come to St. Louis in September, and he is going to put 
me in the Sacred Heart Convent. That is awful good 
of him, but why can’t I just stay here and go to Pos- 
sum Trot next winter, and be smart like you are.^ 
Then maybe I could write books and do things too. 
I don’t like the idea of being shut up in that convent, 
and as Jane doesn’t think as much about me as she 
does of you, and won’t have me at her house very 
much, I am loking forward to it like a prison. I 
know you said it was the best and the finest oppor- 
tunity for me. I wish I could see it like you do, but I 
can’t. Dobson will have a better time; he will live 
with Sis Jane and Tao, and go to school. Tao said 
the public schools are the best for boys. I don’t see 
why I could not stay there too and go to school with 
Dobson. Now, Amily, you told me not to complain, but 
to be grateful for this opportunity; few girls were so 
fortunate. I will try to thank Brother Tao. I guess 
you are so busy you won’t have time to read any 
more so I had better close. Body says she sends her 
heart full of love to her child. Dobson and I send you 
kisses with our love. 

“Devotedly, Your Sister Beth.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


57 


Amily read and reread it, kissed it, then tore it up 
and threw it in the waste basket, and went on with her 
work. She said to herself: “Oh, how I would have 
appreciated the advantage of going to a convent to 
school! Beth, dear child, cannot realize this blessing 
thrust upon her. My little Possum Trot training, 
mother’s example, and observation were my only 
teachers. I will profit by them with the good God’s 
will.” 

Next morning she was feeling so well and working 
very hard to finish her task when she heard someone 
asking for her, and she opened the door to meet the 
outstretched hand of the beautiful and accomplished 
Mrs. Miller. 

“You see I have not forgotten you,” she said. 

“I am so delighted that you have not,” replied Amily. 
“Tell me about my lovely little runaway. How is she.? 
Has she forgotten me.? Bless her pretty little soul, 
she hugged up to me and loved me till she saw you and 
her father.” 

“Yes, we have talked to her of you and we think she 
must understand us. We could not send the nurse 
away, she was so distressed and loves Mary so. She 
told us she stopped to talk to her beau only a moment 
and looked for little Mary and she was not by her side 
as she thought, the little thing having wandered into the 
shrubbery and soon out of sight. Of course Nurse 
began to be frightened and went among the nurses and 
crowd while our baby was wandering away to you. 
Tell me, dear Miss Freelanhisen, why you are located 
in these surroundings.? You are entirely above this 
place.” 

“Mrs. Miller, I am here because I had to get the 
cheapest place I could, and as soon as ever I make 


58 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

a little more I shall get a place in a respectable neigh- 
borhood.” 

“I am leaving the city next week. We go to Nar- 
ragansett Pier, where we usually spend the three hot 
months. We have the same apartments from season 
to season, at the New Mathison Hotel. Why don’t 
you go down there? The city is getting very warm 
now, and you could get plenty of lace mending and 
mending of children’s clothes. I will recommend you 
to my friends and I can get you in at a very low rate, 
and I will want most of your time mending our own 
things.” 

“Oh, you are too good to me!” exclaimed Amily 
“Do you think I could make my expenses down there?” 

“I am sure of it, and I would be glad if you would 
go down with us one week from to-day.” 

“Oh, I will be delighted! I have not been used to 
the confinement of the house and working so late nights. 
I have been so afraid of getting sick in this big city, 
where I am a stranger, and I know that change to the 
seashore would do me a lot of good, if you think I can 
make enough to defray my expenses.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” replied Mrs. Miller. “We 
will see to that. Can you be ready to go one week from 
to-day?” 

“Yes,” said Amily. “I have only one day’s work on 
the lace I am doing for Pigot’s, and that is all that 
would keep me. I could be ready in half an hour if I 
had not to finish this piece of work.” 

“Very well,” said Mrs. Miller. “I will send either 
my carriage or auto after you. We leave on the ten 
o’clock train.” 

“I shall be ready, and how shall I ever be able to 
thank you.?” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 59 

‘‘That is all right. You have already put us in your 
debt forever.” 

The tears came to Amily’s eyes and made them 
glisten, but she did not let them drop. She had long 
since said, “I cannot afford the luxury of tears.” She 
worked hard and finished her work the following day. 
After Madam Pigot had paid her, she was turning to 
leave when the French woman said : “Are you not going 
to take more work to-day.^” 

“No. I am leaving the city for three months and 
shall not be back till cool weather.” 

“Oh, I thought you were going to work for me 
permanently or I don’t think I should have been so 
liberal in paying you such a high price,” said Ma- 
dam. 

“Madam, I did the work very reasonably, as it was 
very fine lace and I am sure you could not have gotten 
it done for less.” 

“Miss Freelanhisen, that is all right. I shall not 
begrudge the money, for you are a nice girl, and if you 
will come to me as soon as you come back to the city 
I will give you more for your work than the rest. 
Now, my dear, won’t you stop and have a demi-tasse 
and a bun with me.'”’ 

“No, thank you, I am in a hurry, as I have a few 
things to get before I leave the city.” 

Then she shook hands and promised to come to her 
first when she returned to the city. 

Amily went to S ’s and asked to see a white 

sailor hat, and when they told her the cheapest was 
three dollars she thought, “maybe they don’t wear hats 
there, as I have heard they carry parasols a great 
deal.” 

So she concluded to travel down in her litle, plain 


60 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


hat which she had worn from home. She had a good- 
looking black parasol and she could do without the sail- 
or hat : “I have done well to make a little more than my 
expenses since I came here,” she was thinking, “but I 
am not satisfied. I have to do something after I have laid 
up a little more than my treasured one thousand that 
Mr. Lorraine WeiclifF gave me. I wonder why he has 
never answered my letter I wrote to thank him. I 
know he said he was going to Monte Carlo. If he had 
written, Beth would have sent it on to me.” 

Amily paid her room rent and packed her little 
trunk and dressed in the plain tailored suit and black 
velvet winter hat. She had bought a white chiffon 
veil, which covered the hat, and she looked every inch 
a lady in that cheap gray suit, as she stood by that 
one little window. 

Ginger came in and said: “Miss Freelanhisen, I hate 
to see you go away. You are the only person whom 
people call respectable who has tried to show me the 
right way to live, and I have been thinking about what 
you have told me. I came home now to tell you not to 
give me up. I am going to try to give up my fellow. 
That’s the first step you told me. When I told him 
he cursed you and me, too, and I felt awful bad at 
first. I cursed and cried, too, and it was so awful hard 
that I ’most broke over when he said he really liked 
me.” 

Amily put her hand on her shoulder and said: “You 
are on the right track. Ginger. You will be so much 
happier when you can have your own self-respect, 
and your young man will love you instead of like you, 
if you live a good life.” 

Ginger broke down and said: “I could do it if you 
were here to back me up. Now when you have made 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


61 


me think and helped me, and I love you, then you go 
away and I am afraid I cannot hold out.” 

“Oh, yes you can. Ginger. I know you are a good 
girl at heart. Propinquity has been your ruin. Now 
rise above your associates.” 

She promised to try, and Amily told her she had left 
some gifts for her. About that time they heard some 
one honk and Amily said, “Good-by, dear Ginger. You 
have been good and kind and considerate of me, 
I shall not forget to pray for you.” 

She placed a silver dollar in Ginger’s hand when she 
told her good-by. “I hate to take your money,” said 
Ginger. 

“Oh, never mind. Ginger; buy yourself a treat and 
remember me.” 

The chauffeur was at the door for the trunk and 
Amily ran down the steps to the auto. Ginger following 
her. When the machine started she said, “God bless 
you. Ginger!” and the last she saw was the girl with 
tears running down her homely, freckled face. 

As the machine sped along Amily forgot everything 
and was saying to herself : “Oh, if I have planted a 
good seed in that rocky soil I will have lived for some 
good anyway.” 

When she alighted from the machine Captain Miller 
and Mrs. Miller, with the nurse and baby, were there 
and soon they were on their way to Narragansett 
Pier. They had the drawing-room and two other com- 
partments. Amily’s bag and umbrella had been placed 
in a berth near the drawing-room where Mrs. Miller 
was located. She had fixed herself very comfortably 
when the little baby, Mary Miller, spied her, and the 
nurse had to bring her to Amily. The child recognized 
her as soon as she saw her and Amily caressed and 


62 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

petted the baby till she got sleepy and the nurse took 
her away. 

“Miss Freelanhisen,” said Captain Miller, “you cer- 
tainly have a charm for our little Mary. She has been 
fretful and we have not gotten her to sleep in the 
morning since the weather has been so warm.” 

“She does seem to like to be with me,” said Amily. 
“I am so glad.” 

He sat down in the seat by her and talked of the 
scenery along the line of their road. Finally he said: 
“Miss Freelanhisen, are you related to General 
Freelanhisen, of the Army.^^” 

“Really, I cannot say. My father was English, and 
if he had any relation in America he never told us.” 

“I thought the Freelanhisens were German.” 

“Yes ; my father always said he was an Englishman 
with a Dutch name. I think I am descended from the 
branch that were English, and his father’s estates 
were near Redich, England, — ^^the needle factories.” 

The Captain bowed and said: “I know they are an 
English branch, and I have heard that the English had 
confiscated the estates and abolished the title.” 

“So I have heard my father say,” replied Amily. 

“Your father is not living 

“No; he died about a year ago in the Ozark moun- 
tains of Arkansas.” 

“My wife told me you were making your living in 
New York.” 

“I have been in New York very nearly since he died,” 
said Amily. 

“You will find it an uphill business in New York,” he 
said. 

“Yes, I realized that before I came. I am very 
thankful to say I have done very well, as I have not 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 63 

starved and died in the streets, as my Brother Tao 
prophesied.” 

“You are to be congratulated indeed,” he answered. 

When he had talked on the Captain saw that she was 
to the manner born, a true lady, and his manner changed 
toward her, lifting his hat when he left her to go to the 
smoker. She did not notice the change, as she took 
deference shown her as a matter of course. She had 
not as yet been thrown with snobs, and knew nothing 
about them. 


CHAPTER VI 


When they had been shown to their rooms at the 
hotel Amily found they had assigned her to a small but 
pretty room near the apartments of Captain and Mrs. 
Miller. She was perfectly delighted as she saw the 
ocean and the white caps from her window. She had 
never seen the ocean till now. She put her things in the 
room and hurried out down to the rock wall in front 
of the hotel. She sat on the wall watching the waves 
lash the rocks below her. She forgot everything else 
till someone said: “You must love the sea, as I have 
been here beside you for several moments and spoken to 
you. This is the second time, and you have not seen 
or known there was anyone else at Narragansett but 
yourself.” 

Amily answered : “I may have heard you at first, but 
I am not in the habit of talking with gentlemen I have 
not been properly introduced to.” 

“Oh, I have watched you and picked my chance to 
speak to you since I saw you come into the hotel with 
the Millers.” 

“How dare you address me in this familiar way.?” 

“Oh, don’t be offended! You are so pretty, and I 
don’t mean any disrespect, even if you are a lady’s 
maid.” 

“You are certainly mistaken. I am not a maid to 
the Millers or anyone else. You will excuse me,” and 
she tossed her head and started on further down towards 

64 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 65 

the Casino. He followed saying: “You are not a friend, 
as they allow you to look out for yourself.” 

“That is no affair of yours, sir, and I refuse to speak 
another word to you, as I recognize you are not a 
gentleman.” 

“Well, my pretty, brown-eyed sweetheart, we will 
see. You don’t realize that I am a Banderwelt, Adol- 
phus R., and you and I could have many pleasant 
strolls by the sea moonlight evenings, and you know I 
can make you some handsome gifts, such as a diamond 
now and then.” 

“How dare you! If you do not leave me at once I 
shall call on Captain Miller to protect me from insult.” 

He sauntered on and, as a parting shot, said ; “Oh, I 
see now; not a maid, but a little sweetheart of the 
Captain’s.” 

Her face flamed and she hurried on, leaving him, he 
stopping at the Casino. Far down the beach below 
Sherry’s Pavilion she sat down in the sand and watched 
the gulls. She was alone but for them. The big waves 
would come almost to her feet and break, and leave 
the sand so smooth again. 

“That is one of the things I was warned against 
by my dear good guardian angel, Jane Red. I hope I 
succeeded in showing myself a lady of the first water, as 
he showed himself to be a cur. He will surely not dare 
to insult me again. I presume he judged me by my 
plain clothes, the Millers being so stylishly clothed. 
Of course he is not a gentleman and would not know 
real ladies.” 

She sauntered back to the hotel to lunch and there 
found the Millers with friends. She had rearranged her 
hair and brushed her suit, leaving off the coat. She 
looked neat, and her walk on the beach had left her 


66 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


rosy and pretty. She was given a table next to the 
Millers. When she took her seat they recognized her 
by a bow, and Mrs. Miller smiled sweetly at her. Mr. 
Banderwelt noticed that, and gave her an impertinent 
stare when she took not the slightest notice of his very 
elaborate bow. 

He was lunching with the Millers, and in the most 
casual way said to Mrs. Miller: “Your little friend at 
the next table is very pretty. Won’t you present me.?^” 

Mrs. Miller blushed just a little and corrected him 
saying: “Rather my protegee, and some time when we 
know each other better, I hope she will honor me by her 
friendship.” She looked at her husband and said: “You 
must tell Mr. Banderwelt about the escapade of your 
young daughter and how we became acquainted with 
Miss Freelanhisen.” 

After that they forgot all about Amily and she got 
up and was out before they had half finished. She 
strolled along up the beach towards Green’s Inn. When 
she got even with the inn a woman spoke to her saying, 
“Would you like to have me read you palm.^ I could 
tell you a great future if you would let me try.” 

“No, I think not, thank you,” replied Amily. 

“The price is only two dollars,” said the woman. 

Amily went on the gallery of the hotel, the woman 
following, it looked so inviting and was filled with 
beautifully dressed people. A bevy of young girls 
came by and she heard the woman ask to read their 
palms. One girl looked at Amily and said, “If it is 
this girl, I will let her read mine.” 

“No,” replied Amily, “ I have not practiced palm- 
istry, although I have studied it, and I am not with 
this person, although we happened to come up the 
steps together.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


67 


Some of the girls were having the woman read their 
palms and Amily walked away. The first girl followed, 
saying: “If you have studied palmistry, why don’t you 
read my hand.'’ I know you could tell me something 
nice.” 

“I don’t mind reading your hand. I can only tell 
the most important and prominent lines. I will take 
up the minor lines this winter.” 

She had led Amily to a seculded part of the big 
shaded veranda and they sat down on a bamboo settee 
together. Amily took the jeweled hand in hers and be- 
gan to tell what she saw there. The young girl was 
delighted, and when she told her she would marry 
happily as a final the girl offered to pay her what the 
real palmist had charged the others. 

Amily smiled and said : “I am glad to have read your 
hand if you are pleased, but I cannot charge you for it.” 

The girl looked at Amily’s cheap clothes, but saw 
that she was a lady. She smiled and said : “Oh, how nice 
to have this gift! I should love to reward you for 
the pleasure you have given me, and I am so anxious to 
have you read my mother’s hand too. If you will not 
let me pay you, of course I cannot ask you.” 

“I am not above taking money for work, as I am 
poor and have to work for my living. I came here from 
New York because the weather is so hot there now 
that I was afraid of becoming sick, and a very kind 
lady told me I ought to come here, and she promised 
to give me all her mending, and also get her friends 
here to give me their laces to mend. I think I must 
do it very well, as I have been mending fine lace for 
Pigot’s in New York, a very well-known house.” 

“You don’t in the least look like one of those work- 
ing girls in New York.” 


68 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“I have only been one of them since the early spring,” 
answered Amily. 

The girl then called to her friends: ‘‘Oh, girls, this 
young lady knows something of palmistry. She read 
my hand and told me my disposition perfectly, and a 
lot of other truths. Oh, she is just fine, even if she 
isn’t a professional.” 

The woman scowled at her and said: “You better 
be very careful about practicing palmistry here with- 
out license, miss.” 

The young girl stepped forward and said : “She would 
not take money for it, so you have no case.” She 
laughed at the woman, who was furious. Amily did not 
answer her at all, and one of the girls, a beauty with 
dark hair and eyes, said: “I wish to speak with you a 
moment. Girls, wait for me.” She walked away from 
the rest with Amily and she said: “I am to have a 
dinner for my young lady and gentlemen friends next 
Monday night, and I have been at a loss to know how to 
entertain them after dinner. All the rest who have 
given dinners have dances afterwards. I want to have 
something different. Won’t you come and read their 
palms ? It will be great fun, and I will take them for a 
dip in the surf afterwards. Oh, please, I will pay 
you well.” 

“I have never done anything like that,” said Amily. 

“Yes, I know, but you will just this once for me.” 

“I don’t know,” said Amily ; “let me think.” 

“You need not think. I will furnish the costume. Of 
course you must dress in some fantastic way.” 

“I would not like to dress as a professional,” said 
Amily. 

“Oh, well, I could have a dear little cabinet, and you 
need not be seen, only in semi-darkness.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


69 


‘‘I will gladly help you out if I will not be seen.” 

‘‘That wiU be all the more mysterious, and will be 
so unique and unusual. Where are you stopping?” she 
then/ asked. 

Amily told her at the Mathison Hotel, giving her 
name and room number. The girl wrote it down, then 
going back to the group of girls she said : “Now, I will 
join you in a little game of bridge, if you are all still 
in the notion, though I think it is a little late and we 
had better go and rest for the Mathison hop to-night.” 
So they went away, leaving Amily alone. 

“That is a suggestion,” she thought. “I have not 
rested one moment since I came to this fascinating 
place.” 

She went back to the hotel and met the nurse with 
little Mary Miller. She stopped to play with the child 
and caress her, and then she went to her room and made 
herself comfortable in a lounging gown of simple make 
and material. Then she sat by her window to write to 
Beth. “I must not tell Beth any of my affairs,” she 
thought, “for she thinks now that I ought to have her 
with me and that I am making money and am already 
independent.” 

After finishing the letter to Beth and Body, she 
rested till it was time to take a bath and dress for 
dinner. She had seen very little of Mrs. Miller since 
she had arrived at the Pier, as she had so many friends 
there and her time was so taken up with them that she 
had not had much time for anything. 

Amily looked so fresh and sweet when she was dressed 
that most people would have called her pretty. She 
went out on the big veranda where hundreds were 
collected, dressed for dinner. Amily found an easy 
chair in a secluded corner of the porch, where she could 


70 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


see the boats and bathers. She sat there till the lights 
were turned on and some had come out after their 
dinner. She was about to go in when Mrs. Miller came 
to her and said: “Oh, Miss Freelanhisen, I have been 
so busy getting settled and meeting friends that I feel 
I have neglected you shamefully.” 

“Not at all, Mrs. Miller, you have been very kind 
to me and I appreciate it very much. I could not stay 
at this lovely place if you had not gotten me such a 
low rate. I have meant to tell you that I met a very 
charming young lady up on the hotel gallery of Green’s 
Inn. I read her palm and she asked me to read the 
palms of her dinner guests Monday night, for pay. I 
have never done that kind of work and I told her I had 
never practiced palmistry, only studied it. She was 
so pleased with what I told her, and insisted so hard, I 
could not refuse her.” 

“Did she include you in her dinner guests 

“No; I could not expect that, as we were not 
introduced.” 

Amily went on to tell how she came to read the 
hand of Miss Fay. When she called the name, Mrs. 
Miller exclaimed, “Oh, Vera Fay! that’s her dinner 
party that they are making so many preparations for 
at the Casino. They have postponed the usual Monday 
hop for her dinner.” 

“She wished me to come in costume,” said Amily. 
“Of course she offered to furnish that. I told her I 
would prefer to come incognito.” 

“That will be very nice. I will call up Miss Vera 
Fay and tell her that you are under my chaperonage 
and if she will call I will introduce her in the proper 
way. By the way, Mr. A. R. Banderwelt, a very fine, 
young gentleman friend of ours, is here at our hotel 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 71 

and has asked us to introduce him to you. We told 
him we would, with your consent.” 

Aimly turned red in the face and said: “I do not 
wish to meet Mr. Banderwelt.” 

“Miss Freelanhisen, he is considered a great beau 
and catch in New York, and he has about ten millions 
in his own right.” 

“Mrs. Miller, I have been brought up to never 
consider money. I don’t consider him a gentleman in 
spite of his millions.” 

“My dear, how can you judge when you have never 
seen him.?” 

“Yes, but I have seen him. The first day we got 
here he said he was on the porch when we drove up 
and mistook me for your maid — judged me by my very 
plain clothes. He spoke to me by the rock wall out in 
front of the hotel soon after we arrived. I had strolled 
out to look at the ocean and watch the white caps roll 
in. It was the first time I had seen the ocean, and I 
sat on the wall rapt in watching when I was startled 
and surprised to be accosted by a strange young man.” 

Amily went on to tell all that had passed between 
them, Mrs. Miller excusing him by saying that so many 
girls, maids and nurses are so free to gossip with 
anyone who will talk to them. “I am glad, though, that 
you repulsed him. He seems to respect you for it, as 
he must have seen at once that you are a lady, and 
has asked to be properly introduced,” said Mrs. Miller. 

“I will not meet him if I can avoid it,” said Amily. 

“You should not be too hard on him, for no girl who 
has the slightest pretensions to good looks need go look- 
ing for temptations. It is waiting for her at every 
turn. The wonder is, not that so many take the prim- 
rose path, but that there are any at all — as there are. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


72 

God be praised — who have the courage and strength to 
fight their way along the straight and narrow path. 
Mr. Banderwelt is a fine fellow, and any girl in New 
York would be proud of his attentions.” 

‘‘I presume I am old-fashioned,” answered Amily, “as 
I cannot feel fiattered by the notice he has taken of me.” 

“Well, we won’t discuss Mr. Banderwelt. I am sure 
you will think better of him after you know him.” 

Amily did not respond to this. 

“I will go now and telephone to Vera Fay,” said Mrs. 
Miller. 

The very next day Miss Fay called upon Mrs. Miller 
and Amily, and after they had discussed the topics of 
the day Mrs. Miller said: “I am awfully sorry, Vera, 
that I had to decline the invitation to your dinner. I 
know it will be the thing of the season, as you enter- 
tain your guests as they prefer to be entertained, some 
dancing and some bathing. I think it will be the best 
of all to let those that wish have their palms read by 
Miss Freelanhisen.” 

“I am sorry I cannot include you in the dinner list, as 
I already have covers for over one hundred,” Miss Fay 
said to Amily. 

“You are very kind to say so, though I could not 
accept.” 

“Oh, you will have dinner with my mother and some 
older people later, won’t you.^” said Miss Fay. 

“No, thank you, I cannot accept invitations, even 
if I should have them, for I know what a working girl 
may expect from society. And as I have promised to 
come to you for a money consideration, of course it will 
be purely business, and I shall not expect any courtesy 
from you. You will feel better knowing you are paying 
me for what I do and that I expect nothing else.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


73 


Mrs. Miller had explained to most of her friends what 
she was to Amily, that she considered her a sort of 
protegee ; that Amily had found and taken care of her 
lost baby and would not take pay for it, and as she 
could get a very low rate for her at the hotel had ad- 
vised her to come to Narragansett. Also, she had prom- 
ised to recommend her to her friends to get mending 
of fine fabrics and lace to do. Mrs. Miller had been so 
busy with society that she had almost forgotten Amily, 
and as Amily did not presume and had rather kept out 
of her way Mrs. Miller felt that she had neglected her. 
She wished to be sought rather than intrude, and when 
Mr. Banderwelt had asked to be introduced, Mrs. Miller 
said to her husband: “I fear that I have neglected my 
pretty protegee; I have been too busy to think of 
her. Mr. Banderwelt seems to admire her. He mistook 
her for my maid and was tactless enough to let her know 
it. She says she will not meet him, and it makes it 
awkward for me, as I shall not know what to tell him.” 

“Don’t worry, dear,” said her husband. “She will 
change her mind when she hears he has ten or twelve 
millions of dollars.” 

“Don’t be so mercenary, my dear. I have told her 
that, and she still refused.” 

“I can understand that, for she told me who she 
was — I mean about her father being descended from 
the English branch of the Freelanhisens at Redich, 
England. I believe I have heard General Freelanhisen 
of the Army speak of Freelanhisen Hall, Redich, 
one of the estates of the family. He visits there some- 
times for the shooting. She is a titled person, if she 
had her rights. I believe most of the estates of 
Germany and England were confiscated after the Refor- 
mation, and only a minor part has been restored to 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


n 

them. I think they are all poor. The General came 
to America with his father when he was a mere boy. 
He keeps in touch with the German branch. He told 
me last year when we were in London together that he 
had promised the old Lord Freelanhisen to come out to 
the Hall at Redich for the shooting.” 

“Maybe Miss Freelanhisen is an impostor.” 

“No, I wouldn’t say that, for I think she is a lady. 
It is written all over her. She could never do a thing 
like that, or I am no judge of good blood.” 

“That may be,” answered Mrs. Miller, “but she 
certainly is very foolish to turn Mr. A. R. Banderwelt 
down when half the girls in New York would give their 
heads for him.” 

“She is a different product — from the Ozarks in 
Arkansas. But we have discussed Miss Freelanhisen 
long enough. Our auto is honking for us. Are you 
ready .^” 

“Yes, I brought my auto coat and hat down with 
me. I will step in and put them on. Had we not better 
ask Miss Freelanhisen to go with us this morning on 
our ride to Point Judith.? We will call by and get 
Dorothy Colgate. Do you think Miss Colgate will care 
to meet our protegee.?” 

“Well, if you have taken her up you can launch her.” 

“She refuses to be launched,” said Mrs. Miller. 

“Well, she is right. She has no means and has to 
work for her living, and has not sufficient wardrobe. 
Could you not lend some of your very elaborate ones .?” 

“Yes, I have plenty to spare, but she is so proud and 
high and mighty that not even I dare offer her charity.” 
She walked over where Amily sat in a big easy chair 
mending some soft, beautiful material, a ball gown of 
lingerie for one of Mrs. Miller’s friends. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 75 

She arose when she was invited to go for the auto 
ride. 

‘‘You are too kind and I thank you awfully. You see 
I am slaving this morning,” pointing to her work. 

“Yes, I see. I cannot let you slave yourself sick. I 
would have it on my conscience. Now put up that 
work. We want to show you one of the prettiest views 
and drives about Narragansett.” 

She insisted so hard that Amily could not refuse with- 
out being rude, and no one could ever accuse her of that. 
She smilingly arose and got her hat and veil and in 
a few minutes joined them. When she got to the 
machine Mr. Banderwelt was there, talking with Captain 
Miller, who turned and introduced them. Amily looked 
Banderwelt in the eyes, and if she inclined her head it 
was so slight it was not perceptible. 

Mr. Banderwelt tried to take no notice of the cut. 
His face and neck turned a bluish red and he talked on 
to the Millers, wishing them a fine ride. Captain Miller 
said: “Banderwelt, sorry we haven’t another seat; we 
are to stop by for Miss Dorothy Colgate. My wife 
telephoned her to be ready and we will take up Rich- 
mond Cline at the Inn.” 

The machine started as he was explaining, and in a 
moment dashed around the curve and past the Casino, 
where a bevy of young girls recognized the Millers and 
waved to them. The bright red and gold machine, with 
the gayly equipped outfit and the two pretty women 
made a picture worth looking at. Amily caught the 
spirit of the bright and beautiful morning and her 
gay companions. She was so natural and so at ease 
that the proud Miss Colgate could not hold herself aloof 
as she first thought to do. When she was introduced to 
Amily she took in at a glance the winter velvet hat 


76 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


covered with the white chiffon veil, the darned shirt 
waist, and the cheap skirt. But Amily had grown so 
animated, the sweet soft breeze blowing her little stray 
locks into ringlets and making her cheeks so rosy, that 
she looked so pretty and wholesome and easy in her 
manner that the proud girl at her side had to unbend. 
On the return trip she was very chatty with her 
vis-a-vis, Richard Cline, and would occasionally include 
Amily in the conversation. 

Mr. Cline referred to Miss Vera Fay’s dinner and 
spoke of it as a matter of course that all the party 
would be present. Mrs. Miller said: “Captain and 
myself are very sorry we had to decline, as we had a 
previous engagement to go over to a dinner dance at 
Newport. Miss Freelanhisen will have to represent us.” 

Miss Colgate raised her big, black eyes to Amily, and 
said, “I will see you then at Vera Fay’s dinner. I pre- 
sume it will be very recherche.” 

“Yes, I am going incognito. I go as a palmist, not 
as a guest.” 

Miss Colgate raised her brows and seemed to freeze 
towards Amily. Mrs. Miller saw her manner change 
and she said : “Miss Freelanhisen is so clever. She has 
studied palmistry some and Miss Fay heard her say so, 
and she insisted on her reading her palm. She was so 
pleased with what she read in her hand that she made 
her promise to read the hands of her friends Monday 
evening. She thinks, as I do, that it will be so out of the 
usual and be such fun, and I hate to miss it.” 

“Miss Freelanhisen,” Richard Cline intercepted, 
“that is a gift I should love to possess, as it makes one 
so very popular. I hope you will favor me by reading a 
great future for me, and I hope our little hostess will 
place me next to you at dinner.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 77 

“I shall not be at dinner. I had to decline Miss 
Fay’s kind invitation, as I could not accept it. I am 
going for a money consideration. Does it not sound 
mercenary.?^ But we working girls who have our own 
living to make must think of the mercenary side, and not 
be flattered and carried away from business by a little 
attention society might condescend to pay us on rare 
occasions.” 

Miss Colgate turned her face to Richard Cline and 
ignored the presence of Amily after that. Captain 
Miller exerted himself to point out all the interesting 
views and expatiated on the beauties of Point Judith ~ 
and the golf links, telling Amily that Beaver Tail light- 
house, which they were passing, was the first lighthouse 
on the Pier. 

Amily chatted on in her brightest way, seeming to 
forget Miss Colgate and Mr. Cline entirely, till they 
were at the Colgate summer palace. When Mr. Cline 
lifted Miss Colgate out she was all smiles and was over- 
powering in her thanks to the Millers for the pleasure 
of the auto ride. Turning to Amily, she bowed slightly, 
and Amily returned the bow in the same manner as it 
was given. 

When they arrived at the hotel Amily told the Millers 
the pleasure they had given her and thanked them over 
and over, and said: “That was my first auto ride on 
the Beach, and you can never know the pleasure you 
have given me this morning. I will work to-night to 
finish Mrs. Deed’s gown, she wants to wear it to-morrow 
to a luncheon. I am willing to work half the night for 
this treat you have given me.” 

“Oh, don’t mention it. We enjoyed it very much too, 
although we have taken it so many times. It is a ride 
one never tires of. We will just have time to rest a 


78 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

moment and dress for lunch. I will see you at lunch, 
won’t li^” 

Amily realized Mrs. Miller was over-gracious to make 
up to her for Miss Colgate’s snobbishness and want of 
tact. Amily took her work after lunch and went up to 
what they call the rocks and sat down in the shade of a 
big boulder where the cool breeze was blowing. She 
was so intent on her sewing she did not see or hear 
the steps of a handsome boy about twelve years old. 

“I came up here to see what was behind this big rock 
’cause my dog, Snip, kept his ears pointed up here, 
and when I wanted to go on with the others he wanted to 
come up here. Did you hear him whine and bark.?” 

“No. The waves rolling in and dashing against the 
boulders made such a noise I did not hear you till you 
spoke and your dog, Snip, barked. Now that you have 
found what was behind the rock, what do you propose 
to do.?” 

“Oh, nothing, I just wanted to see why you come 
up here all alone to sew.” 

“Just to be alone with the wind and waves,” answered 
Amily. ■ 

“Then Snip and I better be going,” he said, “as you 
want to be alone.” 

“I don’t mind you. I rather like to have you and 
Snip, I am so much alone.” 

“My sisters come up here to spoon with their men 
friends. Don’t you too.? I mean when it’s moonlight,” 
said the boy. 

“No, I have no men friends, and I don’t think I have 
any other kind either.” 

“Where do you live and what is your name.?” asked 
the boy. 

“My name is Amily Freelanhisen, and when I am at 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 79 

home I live in the Ozarks of Arkansas. Now what is 
your name.?” 

“I am Charles Renselear, Jr., of New York, and my 
two sisters are considered the belles of Narragansett. 
Don’t you know Madge and Vessie Renselear.? They 
are awfully pretty and they are swell dressers. I think 
you are prettier than they are, ’cause you are nice, f 
would love to see you dressed out in Madge’s togs, you 
would have her beat a mile.” 

“I am glad you like my looks, and I like you too. 
Let’s you and me be friends. Won’t you be my little 
friend.? I need one good, true little friend, and I 
believe you would be a true one or no friend at all.” 

‘‘You bet your life I can be true,” he said. 

“Then give me your hand on that. We are friends, 
are we not.?” 

“I will sure stand up for you,” he promised. 

“Maybe your mother and sisters would not like you 
to be a friend to a girl who has no money and has to 
make her own living.” 

“Yes, my mother and sisters hate shop girls. I have 
heard them say so. But you are not a shop girl; you 
are different,” he said. 

“How do you know I am not a shop girl?” asked 
Amily. 

“I don’t know how I know, I just know you are 
different.” 

“Thank you, dear, for taking me on trust.” 

He sat at her feet and watched her sew for a while. 

“Do you go in bathing down at Sherry’s Beach? I 
go in at eleven o’clock every day and I could show you 
how to float and swim too, if you don’t know how 
already.” 

“I have never been in the surf in my life,” Amily 


80 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


answered, “and I know it is great sport. I watch the 
bathers, and it seems delightful. I have only been in 
our beautiful clear creeks. I learned to swim when I 
was only ten. We have a beautiful stream running right 
back of our house, only a few hundred yards, and in 
summer my brother Dobson, who is about your size 
and age, and my sister Beth, younger than I, used to 
play in that little creek every day. Some parts of it 
are quite deep and yet you can see the fish lying 
on the very bottom, and the shells and pebbles, and bits 
of crystal which look like jewels. One can swim there, 
I should think, more easily than among those big 
breakers.” 

“Oh, how I would love to go there and wade and fish 
in that pretty clear river,” said the boy. 

“Maybe you will some time, for it is very near the 
Hot Springs of Arkansas, and everyone with money 
goes there some time or other,” answered Amily. 

“I believe my mother has a lot of money, and I know 
she took my father there when he had the rheumatism, 
which at last killed him. Mother and my sisters never 
tell of the beautiful things they see when they go places. 
When you tell me, I could see those fishes at the bottom 
of that pretty stream. If I ever go to the Hot Springs 
when I grow up, I surely will find that little stream and 
that Possum Trot where your brother and sister are at 
school. I wish my mother would send me there next win- 
ter instead of to Lawrenceville, the preparatory to 
Princeton. They are determined that I shall be a 
Princeton man because my father was.” 

Amily finally arose. “See the sun has gone down and 
we did not know it, and it will be dark before we can get 
down to my hotel.” 

“I live at our summer cottage above the rock where 


OH, YOU ENGLISH ! 


81 


you see that stone gate on the right of the road. It is 
called Stoneton,” said the boy. 

They walked on till they came out to the road, and 
the gallant boy said, “I am going to your hotel with 
you.” 

‘‘No,” said Amily, “your family may be anxious about 
you. We have been up here together since about two 
o’clock, and we did not realize how the hours were fly- 
ing.” 

The boy spoke in a manly way. “A few moments 
more won’t matter, and I want to see my new friend to 
the hotel.” 

When they arrived some were going into dinner. She 
patted the boy on the shoulder and thanked him for 
bringing her home and he said: “Won’t you come on 
the rocks with me again, and won’t you go in bathing 
with me.?” 

“I will tell you about my going in bathing with you 
when we meet on the rocks to-morrow.” 

She came on through the foy^ and she met the gaze 
of several of the young men about the hotel. Among 
them was Banderwelt. She ran to her room after she 
had passed out of their sight, and bathed her face and 
brushed her hair, and changed her waist to a snowy 
one, though plain, and placed a ribbon at her throat. 
She looked so fresh that she was really pretty. When 
she got to the dining-room the tables were nearly all 
filled. Captain Miller saw her and went over and asked 
her to join them. “We have just taken our seats,” he 
said. She could not refuse, and when Mrs. Miller 
greeted her, she said, “You look so fresh and bright I 
know you have been asleep and are so bright from your 
good rest. I really ought to sleep in the afternoons. 
We have been out on the Renselears’ yacht all after- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


noon. The sea was a bit choppy and I don’t feel my 
best to-night, consequently my envy of your good 
looks.” 

Amily blushed and answered: “I have had a most 
delightful afternoon. I took some mending I had, and 
went up on the rocks to work. I found the most se- 
cluded nook, where the cool breeze was delightful. I had 
not worked long when I was joined by a lovely boy of 
about twelve years of age. He introduced himself and 
we soon became the very best of friends. He talked to 
me while I worked and I think I found out more about 
the Pier and Newport than I would if I had been here 
for years. He told me his mother has her summer 
home here and they spend all their summers here. He 
surely is a most interesting child.” 

“What did you say his name was asked Mrs. Miller. 

“Charles Renselear,” answered Amily. 

Capt. Miller said, “Indeed he is a fine manly little fel- 
low, and his mother is a delightful person, to say noth- 
ing of his two beautiful sisters and his brother Jack. 
We have been their guests this afternoon on Jack’s 
yacht. I wish you knew Charles’ mother. I am you 
sure you would like her ; she is a most estimable lady.” 

“I dare say she is,” responded Amily, “having such a 
lovely boy.” 

The Captain smiled and said: “Miss Freelanhisen, 
you might add ‘boys’ if you knew Jack. He is a great 
fellow, and a beau at the Pier and Newport.” 


CHAPTER VII 


When they were about through dinner and ready for 
the dessert Mr. Banderwelt came to their table, and 
they invited him to have a seat and have dessert with 
them. He accepted, saying : “I dined alone and had cut 
out the dessert. Now that I am honored with such 
charming company I will be glad to take it, thank you.” 

He turned to Amily and said: “I saw you on the 
rocks with a gallant escort this evening — Master 
Charles Renselear.” 

She was very reserved and said, “Yes, I was on the 
rocks.” Then Mrs. Miller, with her fine tact, came to 
Amily’s rescue and relieved her from farther conversa- 
tion. Amily was very charming to Captain Miller. 
When they had finished and strolled out on the wide 
piazza, the Captain and his wife had fallen behind, 
throwing Amily with Banderwelt. She walked by his 
side in the Millers’ wake till they were out of their hear- 
ing when Banderwelt broke the silence by saying : “Miss 
Freelanhisen, you have not forgiven me for my stupid 
blunder the first day you came. I am very sorry and 
beg a thousand pardons.” She did not answer and he 
said : “Won’t you forgive me for my mistake.?^” 

“I have nothing to forgive,” answered Amily. “You 
were liable to the mistake. Not being a gentleman, you 
would not recognize a true lady. I refused to be pre- 
sented to you, but you know how you forced yourself 
on me, and to save the Captain and Mrs. Miller an em- 
83 


84 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


barrassing situation I very slightly inclined my head 
in acknowledgment. If you had been a true gentleman, 
you would have spared me this interview. Please, in 
the future, spare me. You have forced me to speak 
very plainly to you, and I wish to spare you too. In the 
future I shall not recognize you unless it will embarrass 
my hostess.” 

He smiled a diabolical grin and said : ‘‘My little lady, 
I fear, is already being spoiled by her friend, Mrs. Mil- 
ler. You are playing a fine game, and I see it because 
I want you myself, and am a little jealous. But take 
care, my grand lady, that you don’t regret throwing 
A. J. Banderwelt over.” 

“I know what you mean. I know you are a million- 
aire, but were you a thousand times a millionaire it 
would not make the slightest difference to me.” 

With that she turned and met the Millers and bade 
them good-night. She excused herself by saying, “I 
will have a little finishing to do on my work, and I can 
do that to-night if I go in now. I will see you inHhe 
morning.” 

“By the way. Miss Freelanhisen, we are going in the 
auto to Peace Dale to-morrow to church, and we would 
like you to go, too, in our car. The ride is beautiful 
and I am sure you will enjoy it. A great many ride 
there from here Sunday mornings, not so much to hear 
the sermon as for the ride, and to see Peace Dale. There 
is not a sound, no street cars, dirt streets, and the only 
sound that disturbs the quietude is the honk of our ma- 
chine which scatters the Dago children and chickens. 
It is amusing, and one cannot imagine there is a place 
like that in America, especially so near Narragansett. 
The place certainly has the right name.” 

“Thanks, I would love to go, and you have already 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 85 

given me so much pleasure that I shall never get out of 
your debt.” 

“We are delighted to give you pleasure, so be ready, 
dear,” said kind-hearted Mrs. Miller. After Amily had 
passed on Captain Miller said to his wife: “Really, I 
have begun to think that Banderwelt is a cad. That 
girl shows him plainly she will have none of him and he 
is so insistent that he pretends not to see her rebuffs.” 

“Well, dear,” replied his wife, “there is an excuse. 
The poor fellow is madly in love with her, and he was 
so very unfortunate as to offend her the first time he 
saw her.” 

Captain Miller said: “She is a fine, high-strung 
girl, full of spirit, and he must have been insulting or 
she would try to tolerate him on your account. Few 
women in our set would turn him down. He told me he 
apologized to her, but she would not accept his apol- 

“She certainly is very foolish. Just think what he 
could do for her. He could give her a palace and a 
yacht, and anything money could buy, and she is hav- 
ing to work for her living,” said Mrs. Miller. 

“I don’t think money would cut the least figure with 
her, if I am any judge of character.” 

The next morning they started from the hotel about 
half-past ten o’clock, and they expected to get to Peace 
Dale in time for the sermon, and back to the New Mathi- 
son Hotel in time to dress for one o’clock lunch. They 
passed several autos on the way. When they arrived at 
Peace Dale they said : “The village is certainly asleep.” 

It certainly was. 

Just then they heard the church bell and no other 
sound. Then there was a stir of people wending their 
way to the little old black church in a grove of large 


86 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

old elms. It was a quaint scene in these times of ad- 
vancement. 

Captain Miller said: ‘‘Time has stood still in this 
dale.” When Amily took her seat within the church 
and the trembling voice of the white-haired old man in 
homespun clothes commenced his sermon, she felt as if 
she were home in Arkansas at the dear little log church 
at Possum Trot. She felt very devout and paid the 
strictest attention to every word of the sermon. The 
text was, “Whatever ye would have men do to you, do 
ye also to them.” 

Mrs. Miller was very much bored and some other 
fashionable people from the Pier were restless and oc- 
casionally whispered to each other. But Amily was 
enwrapt, not missing a word. The big tears came to 
her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Some of the young 
people looked at her with scorn. But she was uncon- 
scious of everything about her till the old minister pro- 
nounced the benediction. Going back, one of the party 
said: “Miss Freelanhisen, how did you like the sermon? 
All of our party seemed so bored but you. We think 
you are very devout.” 

“No, I fear I am hardly that. I confess I am so old- 
fashioned that I love to hear a good old-time sermon by 
one of those old and truly reverential preachers. I 
know he is a good, pure man, and he is so feeble and 
trembly that you just must respect his earnestness and 
sincerity.” 

Mrs. Miller yawned and said : “I could have endured 
it with more patience if he had only used good Eng- 
lish.” 

Amily answered: “You know I am from the Ozark 
Mountains of Arkansas, and there are very few people 
there who have had the advantage of a good education. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 87 

I have never known truer Christians or more honest 
people than they are.” 

“You are not a sample of that type,” said Mrs. Mil- 
ler. 

“Thank you,” answered Amily. “My father was a 
highly educated man and took his little family to live 
in the Ozarks to hide his poverty and to be away from 
the world he had lost confidence in. We were sent to 
the village school and he taught us at home. My oldest 
brother, living in St. Louis, married a good and highly 
educated lady of great refinement, and we had the ad- 
vantage of her society six months of the year. Once in 
a while I would spend a month with her. My mother 
died when I was a small girl, still I remember her teach- 
ings, she being a true Christian. You see I have a per- 
fect right to be devout,” she said, laughingly. 

There was a silence for a few minutes, and Captain 
Miller told the chauffeur to hurry up a bit, as he wanted 
a rest before lunch. They drove so fast there was not 
much chance for further conversation. Soon they were 
at the New Mathison, the party dispersed, promising to 
be in time for lunch. Amily went to her room and took 
out her little old Bible and opened to some dear pas- 
sages, marked by her mother. She read for a while, 
then changed the ribbon at her throat and brushed her 
pretty hair, which was her crowning glory, and she 
thought her only beauty. It was dressed in the reigning 
mode, a large natural coronet above her high white brow, 
and tiny natural baby curls flying about her face. 
When she entered the dining-room the Millers were al- 
ready seated with Mr. Cline and Mr. Banderwelt and 
evidently discussing a subject more interesting than the 
weather. 

Captain Miller came forward to meet her and said. 


88 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Come, your place is waiting for you. We have just 
had some cold champagne. I know it is useless to ask 
you to join us in wine because you always refuse.” 

“Yes, that is due to my old-fashioned bringing up.” 

Captain Miller said to her before they reached the 
table: “We men rather admire seeing a very young girl 
refuse wine, although most of our young ladies drink it.” 

Amily was given a seat next to Mr. Miller. She saw 
Mr. Banderwelt, but took not the slightest notice of his 
beaming smile and greeting. She talked to Mr. Cline, 
so the others would not see that she did not recognize 
Banderwelt. He was very gay, and talkative through 
lunch and would talk at Amily, though not directly to 
her. He saw she did not in the least try to avoid him ; 
he also saw she was determined not to notice him in any 
way, as far as she could without being rude. 

The conversation turned to Miss Fay’s dinner party 
and the Millers expressed their regret at not being able 
to attend on account of a previous engagement. Mr. 
Banderwelt remarked, while looking at Amily, “WeU, 
the Millers will be represented.” 

Mrs. Miller quickly responded, “Yes, I am glad Miss 
Freelanhisen can go. We are proud to have her go as 
our representative.” 

Amily raised her very expressive eyes to her hostess, 
which showed her appreciation of her saving her an em- 
barrassing situation. With that they rose from the 
table and all retired to a cozy corner of the veranda. 
Mr. Cline got a rocker for Amily and one for himself. 
The others strolled up and down. 

They sat where they had a fine view of the open sea, 
Mr. Cline pointing out the different yachts, telling her 
of their colors and their owners. One, finer than the 
rest, was pointed out as the private yacht of A. J. Ban- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


89 


derwelt. Amily did not say anything. Then he went 
on to tell of Mr. Banderwelt’s great wealth and his 
popularity, and also told her of a gay party he had 
made up for a cruise on the Mediterranean Sea. That 
they expected to go about the close of the season here. 
Amily was so silent he thought she had not heard. 

“I feel I am fortunate in being invited to go,” he 
said. “I always enjoy his hospitality, he is so lavish 
and liberal. By the way. Miss Freelanhisen, he told me 
some days since how much he admired you.” 

“Indeed,” was her only reply. 

The conversation turned to Miss Fay’s dinner and 
he asked to be her escort to the Casino. She laugh- 
ingly declined, saying, “I have a previous engagement 
with Master Charles Renselear.” 

“I did not know Miss Fay included juveniles in her 
dinner,” he said. 

“I don’t think she does,” Amily answered. “I go in- 
cognito, and my little escort only goes with me and re- 
turns to take me_to my hotel. I go in a sort of profes- 
sional way, to read your palms.” 

She laughed a good, hearty laugh when she saw his 
surprise. 

“I presume Miss Fay is aiding a little side charity for 
some good and noble cause,” said he. 

“No, oh, no I I am the charity. I am doing it for 
money. I work for my own living and she wiU pay me 
for reading your hands. You can be sure I will do my 
very best, and I hope and I dare say I will read an en- 
vious future for you.” 

“I shall be delighted to have you read my palm in any 
case.” 

“Thanks, awfully,” replied Amily. 

“By the way. Miss Freelanhisen, I believe I know a 


90 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


connection of yours, General Freelanhisen, of the Army. 
Captain Miller told me he was a connection.” 

‘‘Really, I don’t know,” responded Amily. “My 
father was from the English, and the General is Ger- 
man, I think. I only know that through Captain 
Miller.” 


CHAPTER VIII 


The night of the dinner Amily dressed herself in a 
plain black lace dress, one of Jane Red Raimy’s cast-off 
ones, that Amily had made over, taking off the fancy 
trimmings and making it fit her well. She was very 
pretty when she was dressed and her little escort had 
brought her a bunch of lovely, pure white gardenias, 
or, in other words, white Cape jasmines. She placed 
one at the side of her coiffure and a bunch of three or 
four at her belt. When Master Renselear saw her he 
said, “How those flowers become you! I selected them 
because they were so pure and white, and I thought 
would suit you better than orchids. Our girls like 
orchids because they are the most expensive flowers, 
but these pretty white waxlike things suit you best 
of all.” 

“I am so glad you selected them for me,” replied 
Amily. “They are a Southern flower and one that 
grows in most of the Coast States without cultivation. 
On Galveston Island, I hear, they grow spontaneously 
all over the island, with the oleanders.” 

Master Charles then surveyed her from head to foot 
and said: “You are pretty, and these flowers suit you 
better than diamonds.” 

“Thank you, dear,” she answered. “If other people 
could see me through your eyes I would be popular.” 

“By the way, I told my mother about you, and about 
our friendship compact. She told my sisters that I had 

91 


92 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


mighty good judgment and was willing to let me choose 
my own friends. She promised to call on you when she 
comes down to the Mathison to call on the Millers, Hol- 
lands, Sloans, and some other friends of ours from 
New York who are stopping here.” 

‘‘She is very good to take me on trust,” she said. 

“I told her you were a friend of Captain and Mrs. 
Miller,” he said. 

“My dear, I am hardly that; I am a kind of pro- 
tegee. In other words, they think I did them a service 
and they offered to be responsible for me. Some people 
think a lady could not be a true lady and work for her 
living, so you should have told her.” 

“My mother is not that kind. I told her you were 
going to take pay for reading palms to-night, and it 
did not seem to make any difference with her. My sis- 
ters did not relish that part of it over-much ; but if they 
once know you they won’t mind that either.” 

“I hope not,” said Amily. 

They had now arrived at the Casino, and it was a 
gay scene, with music, thousands of lights, flowers, 
handsome men and gayly dressed butterflies of fashion. 
It was a beautiful picture, one Amily had never seen 
before, and one she would not forget. “Here I am in it 
all, but not quite of it,” she thought. “I must go on, 
on; I cannot stop now. This has been my life’s ambi- 
tion, to be in that enchanted circle.” As she came for- 
ward Miss Fay met her and the youth. She cordially 
shook her hand and said, “Come with me. Miss Freelan- 
hisen, I will show you the mysterious little bower fixed 
for you. Master Charles, will you come too.?^” 

“Yes, thank you, I will see it, if Miss Freelanhisen 
has no objections,” he answered. 

“Certainly, come.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


They saw a fairy bower made of gauze network and 
big hydrangeas, with red subdued lights shining 
through, leaving the interior in semi-darkness. Two 
chairs draped with red covering were inside. Upon ap- 
proaching, both Amily and Charles exclaimed, “How 
beautiful I” 

“I am so glad you like it,” returned Miss Fay. “I 
meant to consult you about it, but I had so many things 
to think of I really could not do it. You said you 
wanted to be incognito, and I thought of this. I will 
have an Italian harpist playing low music while you are 
here. I thought if anyone wanted to have you tell the 
past and future before dinner it would be well for you 
to be here.” 

“Yes, I agree with you. I will take my place for you 
to see the effect before you have to go back to your 
guests.” 

“And, dear Master Charles, won’t you remain with 
Miss Freelanhisen till she is engaged.^” asked Miss Fay. 

“With pleasure,” he answered. 

Miss Fay ran back to her guests scattered all around 
the Casino. It was almost eight o’clock, the hour for 
dinner, and Amily talked to Charles and they forgot 
everyone else. Suddenly Amily raised her eyes, to meet 
those of Mr. Banderwelt. He took no further notice 
and went on in to dinner. When the guests were all 
seated, the music playing, the gay laughter, and tinkle 
of glasses and pop of corks drowning their voices, 
Charles said: “Don’t you like Mr. Banderwelt.? He 
gave you a queer look as he passed us. People say he is 
in love with you.” 

“No, he is not in love with me. And in answer to 
your first question, I really don’t like him.” 

“Don’t you.? He is a good fellow to us. He took us 


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OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


all on a dandy cruise in his big fine yacht. It was a 
corking trip. Our yacht is a tub compared to his. Now 
he has invited mother, sisters and me to go with him to 
cruise in the Mediterranean this winter, after the season 
is over here.” 

“That is very good of him to include you in his in- 
vitation, as children are usually left out.” 

“Yes ; he had to include me, as mother won’t go with- 
out me.” 

Amily sat by Charles talking in this semi-darkness. 
On the little table in front of her was a droplight under 
a very dark drooping shade, which hid her identity en- 
tirely. They heard the dinner guests coming out and 
Charles said: “Miss Amily,” she had told him to call 
her that, “you might just as well begin on me, just to 
get your hand in.” 

“Very well,” she answered. He gave her his hand and 
she turned on the light. While she was telling him what 
a good hand he had, and some characteristics, several 
of the party strolled that way. A military young man 
with a beautiful girl came up and Charles introduced 
them. 

The young Chester Sloan said to the girl with him: 
“You have Miss Freelanhisen read your hand first,” and 
she went inside to Amily. Charles talked with the Cap- 
tain, and in a few moments there was a crowd around 
the booth waiting their turn. When Miss Starr came 
out the other girls and men crowded around about 
her asking, “What has the future in store for you? 
Was the past true?” 

“Yes, oh, yes I She told me my past perfectly, and 
the future is flattering indeed.” 

Soon others who had been in were discussing their 
fortunes. Amily read Captain Cline’s hand, and he 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


95 


complimented her on her success and then said: “I 
think you must be tired now. Can’t you take a stroll 
with me on the beach in this moonlight .P” 

“No; I think I must keep to my post till Miss Fay 
relieves me. She has not been here yet.” 

“I will find her and bring her to have her hand read.” 

He went away, leaving her alone. She had turned off 
the light when someone said : “I have been waiting my 
turn. Have you no pretty things to tell me while you 
read my palm.^ You seem to be a clairvoyant, as I have 
heard some wonderful things you have been telling these 
guests of Miss Fay. I will be content if you will just 
hold my hand as you did some others,” saying this in 
a sneering manner. Recognizing in this latest comer 
Banderwelt, Amily arose and said: “I read only the 
hands of gentlemen and ladies, and you will excuse me.” 

“You seem to take a delight in telling me I am not a 
gentleman. I don’t mind you doing it. I know I have 
seemed rude to you for a mistake I made when I first 
saw you. I have apologized, and you would not accept. 
Now I will tell you this. I have been watching you, and 
I know how proud and ambitious you are and how I 
hurt your pride by taking you for a servant. I am 
very sorry. I would go on my knees if you will forgive 
me.” 

She could not get past him to get out of the booth, 
but she would not deign to answer him. He was so 
wrought up by her silence that he almost forgot where 
he was and he put his face near hers and hissed at her : 
“I love you. I have told few women this. I have not 
had to. They fly to my arms if I will only let them.” 

He tried to take her hand, but she pushed by him, 
overturning the table as she went, and flying into the 
arms of Miss Fay and her escort. 


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OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Oh, dear Miss Freelanhisen 1” said Miss Fay, “I 
ought to have come to relieve you long ago, but I was 
detained. I hope you are not tired and worn out.” 

She presented Mr. Bonny Plimpton and said: “You 
will read our hands some other time, as it is late and I 
see you have closed.” 

“No; I can open again,” Amily answered. 

Mr. Banderwelt spoke up and said: “She had so 
much to tell me that I kept her against her will, I fear.” 

“I shan’t mind,” returned Miss Fay, “for I know you 
were having a pleasant evening with such good company 
as Mr. Banderwelt.” 

Amily did not reply, as she was saved that by the 
arrival of Charles Renselaer, who, true to his promise, 
had returned to escort her to her hotel. She went to 
meet him, telling Miss Fay and Mr. Bonny Plimpton 
good-night. Fearing that Banderwelt would follow her, 
she said to Charles, “Let’s hurry.” 

“You are tired out,” he said. “I knew you would be, 
with all those stupid people about you, and Mr. Bander- 
welt was with you when I came.” 

“Yes, he was the greatest bore of them all.” 

She had not told Charles how she detested Bander- 
welt, and the boy looked at her in surprise. 

“I was glad he was with you, because I was sure you 
would be glad too. Every girl at this Pier would have 
been delighted to have had him single her out to talk to. 
You know he is the greatest catch at the Pier, and I 
thought my mother had her eye on him for sister Daisy, 
when she accepted his invitation to cruise the Mediter- 
ranean this fall. I heard her telling Daisy about all the 
money he had, and what a good catch he was.” 

“Well, dear, I just don’t fancy him, and I presume I 
am so poor that I don’t appreciate his money.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


97 


“You are so plucky,” returned the boy. “You are 
not ashamed to work for money, and that makes you in- 
dependent. If you were a boy I bet you would soon 
make plenty of money. Mother says I will never have 
to think about working to make money, that I will have 
all and more than I can spend. I would rather make 
some myself. I am going in for civil engineering, and I 
am going to do things. I love the study, and I shall 
work some day, see if I don’t. Some of these million- 
aires have more trouble spending their money than some 
people have making it. They get tired of everything, 
and some of them shoot themselves, others have ennui 
and yawn themselves to death. They are always bored, 
nothing interests them, and mother told me it was be- 
cause they are so idle. When I told her that I did not 
want to be like that she let me go in for civil engineer- 
ing.” 

“You are right, Charles, the idle people are not 
happy.” 

When she bade him good-night the clock on the Ca- 
sino tower struck one o’clock. She said, “There, it is 
one o’clock. I am sorry you stayed up to take me 
home.” 

“Oh, that’s all right. I am often up as late as that, 
and see,” looking back towards the Casino, “they are 
just beginning to leave — that is, some of them.” 

He saw her to the elevator and, lifting his hat, said: 
“Remember our rendezvous on the rocks. Will you 
come to-morrow.?” 

“Yes, dear, at the usual time,” she answered. 

The next morning she was up at the usual time and 
out on the beach for a run up and down on the sand be- 
fore breakfast. 

When she went back, into the dining-room, there 


98 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


were very few people in, just a few men and no women. 
The men stared at her, though hardly to their cen- 
sure, for Amily really was worth looking at, with her 
good health and beautiful, fearless eyes, rosy cheeks, 
and pearls for teeth. She looked as pure and fresh as a 
dewdrop. Finishing breakfast she went out on the 
piazza, finding an easy chair in a secluded corner and 
began to sew, mending little clothes for some of Mrs. 
Miller’s friends. 

‘Tf I can do this work so well,” her thoughts ran, 
“why go back to New York when I leave this place.? I 
have my thousand dollars that Mr. Weicliff gave me, or 
loaned me, and my own one hundred that Body gave me. 
I have done awfully well not to be obliged to touch it, 
and I don’t know how much Miss Fay will give me. I 
will not make a charge. I will tell her to pay me what 
she thinks would be reasonable. She seems to be a nice, 
sensible girl and I know she will pay me well — at least 
ten dollars. These rich people have been very good to 
me and have paid me awfully well for my work. I know 
of course that I owe it all to Captain and Mrs. Miller, 
for if I had not had them to recommend me to those 
people I should have had to go back to New York. And 
oh, I shudder when I think of the place I had to stay 
and sew in, and that awful heat, and those people I had 
to see and hear. Poor Ginger I I cannot help think- 
ing of her. I do believe she has good in her and will 
rise above that sinful life when she is a little older 
and can see the consequences of a misspent life. I wish 
I could have done more to help her. I believe I at least 
made her think, and that is something accomplished in 
the right direction.” 

While Amily sat thus soliloquizing, Mr. Plimpton 
came up to her and said: “You are a very industrious 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


99 


young lady, sewing so early, and being the only one in 
the breakfast-room at eight o’clock.” 

“I don’t deserve the credit,” she answered. “I have 
always lived in the country, and my father always had 
his breakfast at seven and he required each of his chil- 
dren to be present. You see it is force of habit.” 

“Your dissipation last night does not tell on you, 
you look as fresh as a rose.” 

“Thank you,” she said, “I am so well and strong, and 
I retired at one o’clock sharp.” 

“I saw you as you passed to the elevator with Master 
Charles. He seems to be a great favorite of yours, as 
you grant him the honor of your society and refuse the 
advances of all the others. Will you put that work by 
and come with me for a walk to Sherry’s and a dip in the 
surf at eleven 

“I will walk to Sherry’s and listen to the music with 
you, but I cannot go bathing with you, as I made a 
compact with my little friend, Charles, to go bathing 
with no one but him.” 

“I shall teU him he is a selfish fellow to monopolize 
you like that, and the men here will feel like shooting 
him.” 

“Oh, no, don’t tell him that I He is such a dear and 
so unselfish. He was my first friend at Narragansett, 
and took me on trust as we met on the rocks, and we 
swore our friendship forever. Even when I told him I 
was so poor, that I had to work for my living, it did not 
frighten him away from me. Do you blame me now for 
proving true.?” she said, showing her pearly teeth in a 
joyous laugh. 

“Well, I don’t think you gave the others a fair 
chance,” he answered. “Banderwelt shows he is dalfy 
about you. Everyone knows that, and they say you 


100 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


gave him the ‘grand go by.’ Some more timid fellows 
think if you turn him down there is little chance for the 
rest of us.” 

When they got to Sherry’s the band was playing and 
the pavilion was nearly filled, as everyone goes to the 
beach at eleven, either to bathe or to see the others and 
listen to the music. 

They got a seat where they could watch the bathers 
and Amily’s companion said : “Miss Freelanhisen, may 
I ask where you are going after you leave the Pier? If 
you go back to New York, I want you to count me one 
of your friends and let me call. I hold a box for the 
grand opera season, and would be delighted to include 
you as a guest.” 

“Mr. Plimpton, you do me great honor, and I do so 
heartily thank you.” He saw a tear shine on her long 
lashes, as she was touched by his kindness. She knew 
she had made it quite clear to him that she was not in 
society. “I am thinking of going to London in a week 
or ten days after I return to New York. Captain and 
Mrs. Miller have promised to meet me there about the 
middle of October. They are going with a party on a 
private yacht, and expect to leave the party there and 
will join me. They have been most kind to me and they 
fancy they are indebted to me, so try to do every kind- 
ness possible. I shall travel to London alone. You 
know we Americans are so independent we can take care 
of ourselves.” 

“I dare say you can take care of yourself,” he an- 
swered. 

Someone was taking seats next to them and Mr. 
Plimpton, rising, said, “Miss Colgate, won’t you take 
my seat? You can see much better here.” 

She started to take the seat and, seeing Amily, she 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


101 


tossed her pretty head and said : ‘‘Thank you ; this is a 
very good place.” 

Plimpton introduced her to Miss Freelanhisen, and 
she scarcely acknowledged it, turning from her and be- 
ginning to talk to someone on the other side of the rail- 
ing. Amily took no notice of the cut. She was just as 
bright and entertaining as ever. 

Soon they were joined by Charles, his mother, and 
two sisters. Charles got a seat next to Amily for his 
mother and soon they were talking together like old 
friends. 

“I received your and your daughters’ cards,” Amily 
said, “I am very sorry I was out of the hotel and missed 
you.” 

“Yes ; we were anxious to know you. Charles told 
us so much about you, we could not help wanting to 
meet you.” 

“He is a grand boy, and a true friend. We met by 
chance, as he has doubtless told you. I was so lonely and 
needed a friend then. Mrs. Miller was the only person 
I knew, and her time was so taken up with her friends 
that I scarcely had a chance to see her. You can never 
know what the friendship of your boy meant to me. 
You would have to be a castaway in a strange land 
yourself to know how good it feels to be counted in 
and taken up even by a youth.” 

Mr. Plimpton was talking with Miss Colgate, but he 
heard what Amily said and his heart went out to the 
brave, proud, little woman. Just now she seemed that, 
though before she appeared a mere girl. At times when 
he had seen her with Charles running on the beach he 
thought her a perfect child. He felt that he was fall- 
ing in love with her. 

When they started back to the hotel, of course they 


102 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


had to stop at the Casino for an ice, — everyone did that, 
— and they were soon joined by Captain Miller and 
quite a party of friends. They were all talking about 
the season’s closing, and where each expected to spend 
the coming winter. 

“I think most of our party are going across the 
pond,” Mr. Plimpton remarked. 

“Yes,” said Miss Colgate, “but that does not mean 
to spend the winter.” 

“I think it amounts to the same,” he answered, “for 
when Americans get to London and Paris they are hard 
to get away. They just stay on, on. Some stay on the 
bare hope that they may be presented to royalty, and 
mothers with daughters stay and work in every way to 
get their daughters introduced at her Majesty’s draw- 
ing-room. If a girl is so fortunate — or unfortunate — 
as to be introduced at Court she then thinks she may 
catch a title. Poor things 1 they scheme with their 
mamas to catch a duke, lord, or any old rusty title, and 
they pull hard on papa’s purse strings. He will not 
squeal, though, as long as mama writes that they have 
a title in tow, no matter how impoverished and rusty 
that crown! Oh, these true Americans, lovers of inde- 
pendence and liberty — what a farce!” 


CHAPTER IX 


The usual Monday night hop at the New Mathison 
was to be that night, and someone said, “Did you know 
that the Spanish count, Batas Beamer, will come over 
from Newport to the dance to-night? He is staying 
with the Hazzards in their cottage for a fortnight.” 

Some had met him, while the majority had not. 

“The Hazzards are keeping him quite to themselves,” 
Miss Renselear said. “They are afraid to let him see 
too many of the Americans. They invited him over here 
for Verra, and they are not going to let him escape. 
Verra is no longer young, and her father’s millions and 
her beauty have failed so far to capture a title. This 
is the last chance.” 

Mr. Plimpton said : “She will not sell herself to that 
old popinjay, with his red nose, bald head, and bad 
eyes.” 

“Yes, but there are only about twenty lives between 
him and the throne, and Count Battas Beamer needs 
money awfully, and old Hazzard has the money to pay 
for that title.” 

Amily listened till she was disgusted, and was glad 
when it was time to go back to the hotel to lunch. When 
lunch was over they sat on the piazza watching the peo- 
ple and baggage leaving, going to their homes. The 
cold sea winds that had been blowing for a few days had 
scattered the crowd considerably, the Millers themselves 
making ready for an early departure. 

103 


104 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Miss Freelanhisen,” said Mrs. Miller, in discussing 
their plans, “I do wish you would reconsider Mr. Ban- 
derwelt’s invitation to go with us on his yacht. It has 
been so nice having you with us here that we shall miss 
you terribly. I am glad, however, that we meet later in 
London. Do you know that any other girl would be so 
flattered by that invitation ! and, my dear, we are such 
good friends now, — I mean you and I, — that I don’t 
mind talking plainly to you, — not too plainly, I hope, 
for I talk as a mother would.” 

“Thank you, my dear friends, you are privileged to 
talk as you will.” 

“I will say this, that Mr. Banderwelt is very much in 
love with you, and all his friends here know it. Every- 
one can see it but you. He is a very fine fellow, but is 
unfortunate in being blunt, and says things without 
thinking. He has told me how badly you treat him, still 
he forgives you and has asked me to urge you to be my 
guest on his yacht on this cruise with all the other 
guests.” 

“You are too good to plead for him and defend him 
as you do. As for his mistaking me for your maid, I 
don’t in the least mind that; but I have a perfect an- 
tipathy to him, and I could not respect myself if I ac- 
cepted his invitation. I thank you a thousand times, 
and I pray God bless you and your husband for your 
great kindness to me. I fear I shall never be able to re- 
pay you.” 

“Will you be ready to go back to the city with us 
next Thursday asked Mrs. Miller. “I want you to 
go home with us and remain till you sail. It is nice your 
ship sails one day before we go, so we can see you off. 
Captain Miller joins me in inviting you to remain with 
us while you are in New York as our guest. I will have 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


105 


some shopping and getting ready to do, and you will 
be a great help to me besides.” 

Tears came to Amily’s eyes and she said: ‘‘You are 
too good to me, a stranger who has no claim on you.” 

“Yes, indeed, you have a claim on us. Did you not 
find and give us back our baby, Mary, and now we have 
been with you long enough to know you and love you 
for your own true worth. We are satisfied you are to 
the manner born, and if you would have taken advan- 
tage of all the attention paid you here you could have 
been the most popular girl at the Pier and captivated 
the big catch of the several seasons.” 

Amily blushed scarlet, and again thanking Mrs. Mil- 
ler she ran to her room to cry a little for the first time 
since she had been here. 

She had not heretofore indulged in tears, for she had 
said when she left the Ozarks that she would leave tears 
behind. No more weeping for her, as tears were useless 
and did no good. But now she had a good cry, and it 
helped her. She could not cry at an unkindness, but 
gentleness and kindness touched her as nothing else did. 
She cried long and well, then got up and read a letter 
that had come from Beth. She read it over and over. 
Beth was reconciled to going to St. Louis to the Sacred 
Heart Convent, and Dobson was delighted to go. They 
hated to leave dear old Body, who was going to have 
her grandchild Dilsy come from Georgia to live with 
her, and she was happy over that. She had never seen 
her son’s child, who was now a woman grown, and Tao 
was very glad to have her stay and take care of the old 
place. Besides, they had intended always to take care 
of the old black servant like one of the family. She had 
been so loyal and true, and Tao had written for her 
grandchild, who had been a servant in the family of one 


106 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


of Tao’s relatives or connections, — Captain Neil Con- 
nally of Atlanta. 

Amilj was so glad her sister and little brother were 
going to school in St. Louis, where Tao could look after 
them. She sat down and wrote a long letter to Body 
and one to Beth and Dobson, telling them that she 
would sail for London in about ten or twelve days, and 
would not write again till she wrote from London. 

Thursday they were all packed and ready waiting for 
the auto to take them to the station, and were telling 
each other good-by, when Charles Renselear came to 
Amily with a box of candy, a book and some roses. 
“Now yod promised to answer my letters and let me 
come to see you when we are in London,” he said. “Mr. 
Banderwelt says that we will be there about a week or 
perhaps a little longer, — perhaps two weeks ; it de- 
pends on what there is doing in the way of amuse- 
ments.” 

“I will be very glad to see you again in London or 
anywhere, my dear, good little friend. I shall never be 
able to thank you for your numberless kindnesses and 
little attentions.” She held his hand where they stood, 
in the foyer of the hotel, before all the crowd of people. 

“May I kiss you good-by.'^” he said. “It will be 
months before we meet again.” 

She put her lips for him to kiss, and he kissed her 
heartily and in a natural, boyish way. Mr. Cline and 
Mr. Plimpton said, “You are quite partial. Miss Free- 
lanhisen. You make us envy Charles very much.” 

She laughed, showing her fine teeth, like rows of 
pearls. When all had said good-by and were in the car, 
she. Captain and Mrs. Miller, maid, nurse, and baby, 
she waved with the others. When she saw Mr. Bander- 
welt lift his hat to her, she knew it was to her, as he was 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


107 


looking straight into her eyes. The machine passed 
under the porte-cochere of the Casino and soon was out 
of sight. When they arrived at the station their trains 
was almost ready to start and they had to hurry. When 
they were about to step into the coach an auto rushed 
up with Charles and Mr. Plimpton. These two jumped 
out and ran to see the party off, Mr. Plimpton giving 
Amily a box of flowers and promising to call on her at 
Captain Miller’s, and as the train moved along they 
walked the length of the platform talking to them, and 
waved as long as the train was in sight. 

When they arrived at West End Avenue, the Millers’ 
beautiful city home, Amily was given a pretty room with 
a private bath, and was told to rest and dress for seven 
o’clock dinner, and that they would go to the New Am- 
sterdam Theater to see Maud Adams that evening, who 
had been playing there for several weeks. 

She took a bath and did a lot of manicuring and hair 
dressing, that is, for her, and got out her only pretense 
to a dinner gown, the made-over black lace of Jane 
Rainy’s. When she was dressed she opened Mr. Plimp- 
ton’s flowers, and as they were white carnations she 
pinned some at her belt and placed two or three at 
the side of her head, back of her ear. 

The high low-round neck was relieved with a very 
slender old-fashioned chain close around her pretty 
white neck. On this chain was a very old turquoise 
locket, her only jewelry. When she went into dinner 
Mrs. Miller exclaimed, “Amily, how pretty you are to- 
night !” 

She blushed deeply, as her best loved ones at home 
had never told her she was pretty, and she had never for 
a moment in her life believed herself pretty. They 
talked all through dinner about their European trip. 


108 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


and were so sorry that Amily could not be one of the 
party on the yacht. 

Then, discussing Amily’s plans, Mrs. Miller said: 
“You must have a heavy coat for the steamer.” 

“I thought the coat to my suit would do with my red 
sweater,” Amily answered. 

“We will see. You must let me give you your steamer 
rug, as we get them of a wholesale place much cheaper 
than you could buy one.” 

“You are kind indeed,” answered Amily. 

“Won’t you be ready to go shopping with me to-mor- 
row morning.^ We will try to get down town as early as 
nine o’clock.” 

When they went to the theater Amily took her white 
chiffon veil from her hat and wore it over her head. 
Mrs. Miller, with her jewelry and one hundred-and-fifty 
dollar gown, did not look better dressed. Amily was a 
natural artist, she wore her clothes so well. 

They were so entertained with the play that they did 
not look about till the curtain dropped on the second 
act. Then Amily had a chance to view the New York 
fashionables, Mrs. Miller telling her who the occupants 
of the different boxes were. They noticed a man in the 
opposite box with opera glasses drawn on their box, and 
when they looked in his direction Amily thought she had 
seen him before. At first she could not place him, then 
finally it came to her mind that he was young Howard, 
the son of Augusta Howard, her first benefactress in 
New York. When the curtain had dropped and they 
were in the foyer, Mr. Howard came forward and greet- 
ed the Millers as old acquaintances and, turning to 
Amily said: “How do you do, Miss Freelanhisen ? I 
thought you were at Narragansett. You told me when 
I saw you last that you were about to start, to remain 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 109 

till the season closed. Consequently, I did not expect to 
see you for ten days yet.” 

Mrs. Miller relieved Amily by saying: “Yes, we 
are back a bit early, as we are to sail for the other side 
in a few days.” 

“It is needless to ask if you had a successful season,” 
he then said. 

Mrs. Miller did not quite catch his drift, and said: 
“Oh, yes, she was a success indeed. If you could have 
seen all the lovesick swains who followed her to the train, 
you would agree that she was a success.” 

Amily blushed and said: “Oh, you mean my busi- 
ness I Yes, I was very successful in that, far beyond 
my wildest expectations.” 

Mrs. Miller was surprised at Amily’s knowing Mr. 
Howard, and, too, that he should know she was working 
for her own living. “I did not know that you were 
friends,” she said. “I am delighted, for Miss Freelan- 
hisen has so few acquaintances here. Won’t you come 
to dinner to-morrow evening.? We are to have Mr. 
Cline and Mr. Plimpton with us. They come down from 
the Pier to see Amily off, on her sail for Europe.” 

“I shall be delighted to come, I assure you,” he re- 
sponded. 

In the auto going home, Amily explained how she had 
met Howard. Next morning Amily was ready for shop- 
ping, as she went to her breakfast in all but her hat and 
gloves. “How nice of you to remember our engage- 
ment,” exclaimed Mrs. Miller. “I shall be ready in a 
few moments after we have finished breakfast.” 

She spoke to the butler, telling him to tell the chauf- 
feur to have the auto at the door by that time. While 
they were speeding downtown they went through Cen- 
tral Park, and it was a perfectly delightful ride. They 


110 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


had the nurse and baby with them. Amily was so fond 
of the beautiful child that she would beg to sit by her in 
the car. 

When they had shopped at one of the larger empo- 
riums, Amily wished to be driven to a place not so ex- 
pensive, so they drove to Broadway, where she bought a 
few white shirt waists, a shaggy tam-o’-shanter steamer 
hat and a few other things. While Mrs. Miller waited 
for her she went over to get some toilet things, and as 
she was waiting for her change someone touched her on 
the shoulder and in a low, delighted voice said : ‘‘Howdy, 
dear Miss Freelanhisen !” and Amily saw Ginger, her 
old roommate, by her side. She shook her hand and said 
she was so glad to see her so much improved. 

Ginger blushed and sj-id : “Miss Freelanhisen, I have 
wanted to see you to thank you for what you said and 
did for me. I told my fellow all you said. He was mad 
at first, but I held out good and strong, like you told 
me to. I stopped drinking and I don’t cuss now, and 
he came around, like you said he would if he really loved 
me. So I guess he did, because one night when I went 
out to supper with him he said I was so respectable he 
wanted me for the rest of his natural life. We went to 
the Little Church Around the Corner and got married. 
He never told me he had the license in his pocket all the 
time.” 

“Dear Ginger, I am so glad you are so happy! I 
hope you will always be happy,” said Amily. 

“Yes, I have you to thank the rest of my life. We 
have a room close by the bridge, and I still hold my job. 
We cook our dinner on our little stove we got here for 
a dollar. We are sure going to save money and some 
day we might own a home.” 

“Yes, Ginger, you have started right,” said Amily. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! Ill 

“And we’ve both got you to love and thank,” said 
Ginger. 

“Don’t think of that. Ginger, only remember that I 
shall always be thankful if I have heen the means of your 
living a good life, and I pray you will live to be a good 
and useful woman. I must tell you good-by now.” 

“Can’t I come to see you some time. Miss Freelan- 
hisen?” 

“Yes, if I ever come to New York again. Now, I am 
about to sail for Europe.” 

“Oh,” poor Ginger cried, “I hate to think the one 
person in the world that cares whether I go to the devil 
or not is going so far away from me. Who will tell me 
the right thing to do 

“Dear Ginger, your conscience will tell you.” Amily 
bade her good-by again, and went to find Mrs. Miller. 
When she found her she said: “I hope you did not get 
tired of waiting. I met a poor unfortunate girl with 
whom I roomed in that awful downtown place you found 
when you came to see me in New York. I hated it, but 
I had to stay there, as I could not make enough to stay 
in a better place.” 

“You were very successful at the Pier, were you 
not?” 

“I know that, and have you to thank, as I know I 
should not have gotten anything to do if you had not 
asked your friends to give me their mending, and they 
did for your sake.” 

“Yes, but I did not ask Miss Fay to give you fifty 
dollars, and I did not ask all those young men to fall in 
love with you.” 

“Dear Mrs. Miller, you flatter me, and they all paid 
me the attention they did because you took me up. One 
of those great catches went so far as to insult me when 


112 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


he thought I was only your maid, but when you intro- 
duced me as your friend, he went so far as to tell me 
how he loved me. Oh, bah, for such love!” 

“Really, he meant it. I have known him a long time 
and half of the mothers of this city have thrown their 
daughters at his head, and he still was not touched. 
He told me of his mistake, and how sorry he was, and 
apologized to me, and told me he had done the same to 
you, and that you would not forgive him. He is a blunt, 
bungling sort of phlegmatic man. In this instance I 
believe he did bungle, still I believe him when he told me 
that you are the only girl he had really fallen in love 
with. I think you will make the mistake of your life if 
you don’t reconsider about him and give him a chance 
to prove what he professes.” 

Amily did not say anything more, only changed the 
subject. They went to Altman’s and made some more 
purchases, and Mrs. Miller said, “We will lunch at 
Sherry’s. I promised my husband I would meet him 
there at one o’clock.” 

When they went into the palm room. Captain Miller 
was there waiting for them, and they all sat down to a 
course luncheon. While the Captain was talking about 
something to his wife Amily was thinking about herself. 
She, the guest of these aristocratic rich people, and 
working for her own living, and they knowing it too ! 
She had seen so much snobbishness at the Pier among 
the very rich that she wondered at the kindness shown 
her, and she thought: “When they see me on my way 
over the ocean they will wash their hands of me. They 
felt that they were indebted to me for taking care of 
their lost baby, and they will feel they have repaid the 
obligation. Oh, I shall prize their friendship as long as 
I live, and I hope when I am launched on the wave of big 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


113 


London’s breadwinners I can find another to take me on 
trust and see the true lady in me as I feel I am and shall 
always try to carry out.” Her train of thought was 
broken by hearing Captain Miller’s voice : 

“I fear you were far from us just now. I spoke to 
you the second time before you heard me.” 

“I beg your pardon. I was dreaming and wondering 
if in all my life I shall ever find any others who will be 
as good and kind to me as you. I have written to my 
brother in St. Louis to tell him how kind you have been, 
and I am sure he will write you his appreciation. He and 
his good wife were much opposed to my coming away 
from home to make my own way in the world. When 
my father died a year ago he left very little to educate 
my younger sister and brother, and I wanted to be in- 
dependent. I could not live and be dependent on my 
brother or anyone. I did not tell my brother, for sure, 
that I was coming to New York, and I fear he has not 
forgiven me yet. 

“My old black mammy nurse gave me her savings of 
years past, and a friend of my father’s, when he heard 
of my father’s death, sent me a present of, to me, a 
large check, though to the rich it would be only a trifle. 
I wrote and told him I would accept the money only as 
a loan, and thanks to you both, I have not encroached 
upon it yet. 

“Your rich friends have paid me so much more than 
I could ever have thought of charging them for my 
work. In London I hope to get the same flattering rec- 
ommendation you have so kindly given me to your Am- 
erican acquaintances and friends. I have no fear that I 
shall starve,” she added, laughingly. 

“I am most assured we are glad we had a chance to 
assist you, even in a small way, and only sorry you wiU 


114 


OH, YOU ENGLISH ! 


not let us do more,” said Mrs. Miller. ‘‘I don’t think 
you need fear when you have a chance to marry a multi- 
millionaire, and just for a little foolish sentiment you 
pass him up. Dear, I am speaking plainly to you, as 
I should to my sister, and I know you will see how in- 
terested we both are in your future. I have acknowl- 
edged you to be my friend, and as such I shall regard 
you, and I shall call you Amily.” 

“I am so glad,” Amily answered. “I have wanted you 
to from the first, but I would not presume.” 

“Dear, dear, you are very proud, and I rather think 
that is one of your greatest charms, so I will not cen- 
sure you. Still, I do think you are not quite fair with 
some one of your admirers.” 

“We will go, if you are both ready,” Captain Miller 
interrupted. “We will drive back by the bank, as I have 
one moment to spend there, and it will save me another 
drive downtown.” 

“We will be so glad to have the extra ride, and we 
will call for you in half an hour,” said Mrs. Miller. “I 
wish to stop at Lord & Taylor’s for something I have 
just thought of.” 

They took the elevator and were shown to the suit 
department, and Mrs. Miller asked to be shown some 
tailor suits of the best qualit}^ Then she said to Amily : 
“I want to make you a present of a suit and hat, dear. 
I don’t think your gray suit will be quite heavy enough 
for your trip. I thought of it yesterday while we were 
dining, and I saw it was not heavy.” 

She selected a beautiful dark blue of the best quality 
and it just fit, except for the skirt having to be one inch 
shorter. When they saw all the beautiful millinery it 
was not easy to decide. At last they took a lovely blue 
felt with a lighter blue plume, and Amily was a picture 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


115 


in it. Mrs. Miller and the saleswoman complimented 
her enough to turn her head. 

“Mrs. Miller, you should not give me these expensive 
things, and pay such extravagant compliments to me. 
You will spoil me beyond everything.” 

“Well, dear, I don’t mind if I do spoil you a little bit. 
You are entirely too correct, anyway, and some spoiling 
will be a good thing for you.” 


CHAPTER X 


‘‘Well, to-morrow you sail,” said Mrs. Miller, “and 
I shall miss you so.” 

“You sail only one week from to-morrow,” answered 
Amily, “and you will be so busy you won’t have time to 
miss me, and you have so many old friends that will 
come to see you before you go.” 

“Yes, a great many will call and leave cards. I shall 
see very few, if any, in this society life we lead. We 
really have no intimates. I mean the intimacy you and 
I have led since we have been friends. When we tell 
each other all our inner life and our past, as you have 
done, I feel that I have known you all my life, and loved 
you too. I cannot help being disappointed and pro- 
voked that you are not to go with us on Mr. Bander- 
welt’s yacht, and you have had invitations through us 
as well as from the host himself. Well, we won’t talk 
of that now. I will write you all our plans and will be 
sure to join you in London. You must make yourself 
pretty as you can to-night, as you know I have this 
farewell dinner party for you. Our friends of the Pier 
will be with us, that is, our party of the White Wings 
yacht. You have not met Chauncey Roosevelt. He is 
delightful. I am so glad he is to be with us on the White 
Wings, and I want you to meet him. I am sure you will 
be pleased with him ; everybody is.” 

“I dare say I will not be an exception, for I shall like 
him too.” 


116 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


117 


That night Amily was placed next to Chauncey 
Roosevelt at dinner, and of course he took her in with 
him. She did indeed like him, as she had predicted she 
would. He was so unspoiled and as natural as a school- 
boy, and the same time most polished and elegant. 

They carried on the most animated conversation, and 
Amily was so at home with this big boyish American 
gentleman that she was brilliant and beautiful. She was 
telling him about her home in the Ozarks of Arkansas, 
of the clear and beautiful rivers and creeks, and the wild 
flowers, and all the natural beauty. He told her in an 
undertone that she was a fine specimen of the natural 
beauty, and that he wanted to see a country that pro- 
duced such natural beauty. 

She accused him of flattery, at the same time feeling 
sure he meant what he said to her. Her color rose and 
her pretty yellowish brown eyes shone with unusual bril- 
liancy. 

Then the hostess rose from the table and led the way 
to the drawing-room. Mr. Banderwelt was talking to 
Miss Colgate, who was resplendant in a magnificent 
Paris gown. She was a splendid type of brunette love- 
liness, tall and stately, of clear, fine dark skin, with just 
a tint of color, and hair as black as a raven’s wing. 
With her perfect features she was what one would im- 
agine Cleopatra to have been in the zenith of her pop- 
ularity and glory, and quite as haughty. 

She saw Amily come in from the dining-room with 
Chauncy Roosevelt, and, joined by Bonny Plimpton 
and Mr. Cline, she became the center of attraction. She 
saw that Banderwelt scarcely heard what she was say- 
ing to him, his whole attention being given to that group 
which sat by the window looking out into the conserva- 
tory. Finally he made an excuse to take her for a prowl 


118 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


through the conservatory, and passing he gave Amily 
a look that went home to her heart, for it was a home- 
sick sort of appeal to her. 

She looked away as soon as she could, and tried not 
to seek him again, but he soon came back alone, leaving 
Miss Colgate with Captain Miller, who wanted to show 
her some orchids. 

Banderwelt strolled up to the group, and one of the 
men gave way for him, and he joined in the general 
conversation. One by one the men dropped away, leav- 
ing him alone with Amily. “Don’t run away. Miss Free- 
lanhisen,” he said. “I want one or two words with you. 
I shall not see you again for some time.” 

“I hope not,” she interrupted. 

He ignored the interruption. 

“I want to say that I know you understand me, and 1 
know, too, that you realize how I do really and truly 
love you, although you thought I insulted you at our 
first meeting. Maybe I did not know you as I do now, 
and perhaps it was intended as you understood it then. 
Now I know what you are, and I don’t mind saying it 
again — I love you. I always shall. You can scorn my 
love as you will, and refuse to forgive me, but in spite 
of your scorn I shall follow you and love you always. 
There is nothing else for me. You know I am an ex- 
perienced person as far as women go, and you are the 
only one I ever have or ever will love. You might just 
as well get accustomed to the fact.” 

She tried to pass him without an answer, but she 
could not without a scene. “How dare you detain me 
again to insult me,” she hissed through her closed lips. 
“Look out! don’t go too far.” 

He smiled a cynical smile and said in the most jocular 
way: “May I bring you an ice.?^” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


119 


Mr. Roosevelt now came back to her, in time to save 
her an answer, saying: “You must not forget that I 
am to call with my motor car to take you to your steam- 
er to-morrow. I think she sails at eleven sharp. Am 
I not right.? I have arranged for Captain and Mrs. 
Miller to accompany us.” 

“That will be delightful, and you are really very 
kind,” answered Amily. 

The company was now breaking up and those that 
would not be at the docks to see Amily sail were bidding 
her “bon voyage” and saying all kinds of pleasantries. 

When Banderwelt, with Miss Colgate, came to say 
good-night to the hostess, who stood beside Amily, Miss 
Colgate told how she had enjoyed the evening, and, 
turning to Amily, gave her a freezing bow. Mr. Band- 
derwelt said : “Mrs. Miller, you must take better care 
of your little protegee. With so much dissipation she is 
losing color,” Amily having paled as he came near her. 

She spoke to someone else and did not hear what 
Mrs. Miller answered. 

Next day Amily was up early and had her packing 
done, which was not a great task, as she had but one 
trunk. When she came into breakfast with the family 
she was so fresh-looking and happy that Captain Miller 
said : “Dear Miss Amily, I must reprove you for being 
so apparently happy when you are about to leave us.” 

She smiled and said : “I am very sorry to leave such 
dear, good friends. I hope to see you again in a few 
months. I shall miss you all very much, and sweet baby 
Mary Miller, how I shall long to hear her joyous laugh 
and feel her baby fingers clinging to mine in our daily 
walks and our long noisy romps I I dare not think of it, 
or I would cry right now,” and she passed a small hand- 
kerchief over her eyes. 


120 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Don’t, dear,” said Mrs. Miller; “you must not spoil 
the brightness of your eyes ; you will want to look your 
best. And I know how stunning you will look in your 
stylish steamer coat and long veil. You will cause more 
heartaches than you have already.” This with a know- 
ing' look at her husband. 

Amily laughed, then sighed: 

“You flatter me, I assure you.” 

“We know whereof we speak,” said Captain Miller. 

Chauncy Roosevelt was in front with his big motor 
car and when he was ushered into the dining-room where 
they were having a ten o’clock breakfast, Mrs. Miller 
would have him sit and have some fruit and coffee, al- 
though he said he breakfasted at eight o’clock. They 
were a merry breakfast party. Baby Mary Miller had 
been allowed to come to breakfast with the family in 
honor of Amily’s last meal. She was in her high chair 
by Amily’s side and was playing with a very pretty 
bracelet on her arm that she found under her plate as a 
parting gift. “From Baby Mary Miller” was engraved 
on the inside. The outside was carved in Roman gold, 
and a one caret solitaire diamond of purest water fln- 
ished the beauty of it. 

Captain Miller was the first to remind them that they 
had very little time to get ready for the docks. They 
had only their coats and hats to put on and in a few 
moments they came forth. Amily was a different look- 
ing person from the shabbily dressed, timid-looking girl 
from the Ozarks of Arkansas. Now she looked as the 
people in New York society did. The change in the 
dressing of the hair and the beautiful tailored suit and 
hat had changed her appearance to a beautiful, stylish 
girl. Oh, the power of clothes! She had always been 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 121 

at her ease and self-possessed, as the well-born usually 
are. 

When they boarded the steamer a bevy of their 
friends had preceded them and were there to give them 
welcome. Mr. Cline, Roosevelt, Plimpton, Howard, the 
Misses Renselear, with Charles, and some other friends 
of the Millers whom Amily had not seen before, were all 
there. 

She was glad to see her little friend Charles again, 
and they were so interested in talking and meeting other 
friends that the bell had sounded the second time before 
the party went ashore. 

Charles was the last to hold her hand and said, “Bon 
voyage.” She called him back just as he was about to 
step on the gangplank to leave, and she kissed him and 
said: “I kiss you because you have been a friend in- 
deed; my first real one at the Pier.” 

Then he had to run, as they had begun to draw in the 
bridge. The others accused her of partiality, and she 
did not have time to deny the charge before the ship 
was moving slowly away from the dock. Mr. Bander- 
welt had not been with the party, but when she stood 
waving she saw him in his big, fine auto, and he waved to 
her as long as she could see him. She tried not to let 
him know she saw him. 


CHAPTER XI 


Amily sat on the deck till New York was out of 
sight, and they were well out to sea before she thought 
of where she was going or what for. She sat thinking, 
and a sort of homesickness took possession of her. She 
sat in her steamer chair, placed in the coziest corner, 
nearest her stateroom. 

She had not noticed who was next to her until a deck 
steward asked if she would have him bring her some 
beef tea or some refreshments. She did not wish any, 
and thought she would go to her berth and smooth her 
hair before lunch. She was astonished to see a big pile 
of letters and mail, to say nothing of the many pack- 
ages of candy, flowers, and what not. 

She thought she would not open any of them till after 
lunch. When she started back to her steamer chair she 
took some of her mail and looked over the outsides. 
Some were to be opened at mid-ocean, and some right 
away. Two were from Master Charles Renselear. 
When she was alone and thinking of him she opened 
one, saying, ‘‘This is the time, for I am thinking of him 
and how happy he looked when I kissed him at parting. 
Bless his hfe.” 

The letter began: 

“My Deae Amiey : 

“You said for me to call you Amily, and how I hate 
to have you go on that big ship all by yourself. I know 
122 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


123 


you can take care of yourself, but I know you will be 
lonesome and miss me, too (does that sound conceited?). 
I wish I could be with you on your voyage instead of 
going with the party on Mr. Banderwelt’s yacht. 

“Amily, I am going to tell you what I could not tell 
you to your face. I know how you dislike Mr. Bander- 
welt, but you have a very wrong impression of him. He 
is a good fellow, and we all like him so much. My 
mother is wild for him to marry one of my sisters, and 
you know she would not give my sister to him if he was 
not a good catch. 

“I know you fancied he was ungentlemanly to you. 
He told me how sorry he was that you misunderstood 
him, and he said he was willing to beg pardon on his 
knees, but that you would not forgive him. He was so 
anxious to have you on his yacht with us 1 He told me 
he asked the Millers to invite you, as you would not go 
as his guest. 

“Amily, he told me also, that you are the only woman 
he had ever loved, and that he would never love any 
other. Well, enough of Mr. Banderwelt. I have pleaded 
his case because I told him I would. He has been so 
good to me, and particularly since you and I have been 
such good friends. He said he had not told anyone how 
he loves you, but all the Narragansett party knew, for 
he could not hide it. 

“My dear, some of the girls were awfully jealous and 
sneered at you and called you a ‘nobody’ out of nowhere. 
They were afraid you would land the big fish of the sea- 
son at the Pier. I heard them, and they would not be- 
lieve you had turned him down. 

“I will come to your hotel to see you, and take you to 
the theatre the first night we are in London. And 
please don’t be too proud to accept the present I send 


IM 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

you ; it gives me great pleasure to send you the ring as 
a token of my friendship and love for you. My mother 
went with me and helped me select it, so I feel certain 
it is the right kind, and I want to see it on your pretty 
finger when I meet you. 

“I saw that you did not wear a ring, and I will be so 
flattered and honored if mine is the first you wear. 
Think over what I have said about Banderwelt. He is 
better than you think him, and try to be as nice to him 
as you can for my sake. He is an awful good friend of 
Mother, and he is so good to me. Won’t you do your 
best to tolerate him for my sake.? 

“I will have to close this very tame letter for fear of 
tiring you too much. I send you my love and hope to 
see you very soon. I am 

“Sincerely, your friend, 

“Charles Renselear.” 

She read this letter and thought: “I certainly was 
fortunate to make such friends as the Millers and 
Charles. I must make myself independent. When I get 
to London I will get something to do if my lace mend- 
ing fails me. I cannot accept much more from my true, 
good friends. I want to put away a little money and 
get fixed up in London before I go out to Redich to look 
into my father’s ancestral home, and present myself to 
his family, if any are living thereabouts.” 

She was so busy with her thoughts that she did not 
notice the old gentleman who was next to her in his 
steamer chair and rugs. He had offered to move his 
chair a little as a ray of sun slanted across her face, but 
she told him she did not mind the sun in the least, and 
thanked him. Paying no more attention to her sur- 
roundings she looked next over the opaline sea, with its 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


125 


changing scene of clouds and shadows. The thought 
came of the old home in the Ozark Mountains, of Body 
there taking care of the house. 

‘‘Will I ever come back to that humble home.? Will I 
be old, tired, and beaten and fly back to it as a haven of 
rest to die.?” She shuddered as she thought of it. “I 
must put such morbid thoughts from me. I have had a 
little, though very little, insight into that magic inner 
circle, and I am fascinated. Am I as anxious to be of it 
and in it.? No, not quite so enthusiastic. I have seen 
so much of the false, deceptive, and the hypocrital in 
the short time I have associated with them. I am more 
determined to rise above the base. One thing sure, I 
will do right and I will be good. God will help me as He 
has done so far. Am I dissatisfied.? No, not yet; even 
Adam himself was not satisfied with Paradise.” 

Just then the old gentleman at her left said: “Will 
you let me assist you to arise.? The second bugle call 
for dinner has sounded. Did you not hear.? Are you a 
little sick and faint.? You have been so still and quiet 
all afternoon I feared you were ill.” 

“No, I am very well,” she answered. 

“I think you are at the Captain’s table, are you not .?” 

“Really, I do not know. I went to lunch when every- 
one had left the saloon,” replied Amily. 

“I heard the Captain ask for you and send a deck 
steward to see if you were well,” he said. 

“He came, and I told him I was not ready to lunch,” 
she answered. 

“Miss Freelanhisen, with your permission, I will in- 
troduce myself. I am Seth Slogan, of the Army, re- 
tired. My friend, Mr. Banderwelt, told me you were a 
connection of General Freelanhisen.” 

“Yes,” responded Amily. “I have been told that we 


126 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


are connected. I don’t know him and I don’t suppose 
he ever heard of me. He is German, while I am of Eng- 
lish descent. I have heard my father say there was a 
German branch of his family.” 

“Mr. Banderwelt explained that to me, and he put 
you in charge of the captain of the ship, as well as 
asked me to look after your comforts. I have offered 
several times to be of service to you, but you were so 
reserved, and so lost in watching the waves out in mid- 
ocean I could not get your attention. Your friend will 
think I have not kept my promise if you do not let me 
take you in to dinner, at least.” 

“I will be glad to go to dinner with you,” she an- 
swered, “but you are mistaken. Mr. Banderwelt is not 
a friend of mine, only a casual acquaintance, and I am 
quite sure it was unnecessary for him to go to so much 
trouble on my account. My friend Captain Miller and 
his wife did everything for me, securing the best state- 
room, and placing my steamer chair, and all other little 
attentions.” 

He looked at her intently, then said: 

“My dear young lady, you are mistaken. Mr. Ban- 
derwelt was on board several days ago with me, and he 
took great pains to find the very best that was to be 
had. Did you notice your steamer chair is new, and 
upholstered, while the others are so different.?^ And 
your stateroom is the very best on the ship, next to the 
captain’s.” 

“No, I had not thought about that,” replied Amily. 
“This is my first ocean trip, and I take everything as a 
matter of course.” 

“Well, we will miss the choice cuts if we delay longer 
for dinner,” he said, “and I want to present you to Cap- 
tain Boris. He is a fine old captain and a real sea dog. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


127 


When he has time he is very interesting with his thril- 
ling stories of his adventures on the deep blue sea.” 

When they got to the table the captain was taking 
his dessert and wine. He told Amily how remiss he felt 
that he had not hunted her up and made her acquain- 
tance ere this. 

“I am real busy the first two or three days out, but 
after that I can see more of the passengers. I deputized 
Captain Seth Slogan, and if he has failed me he will 
have to account to me.” He laughingly raised his glass 
of wine and drank the health of Miss Freelanhisen. 

There were some other very pleasant people who were 
introduced, though Amily was sorry to be obliged to 
meet them, as she wanted to be to herself to enjoy to the 
fullest the beautiful changing panorama of the sea. It 
being her maiden trip, she wished to stamp it indelibly 
on her memory. She knew her power of drawing people 
to her. She also knew it was the power of her eyes ; that 
if she looked at them they were usually drawn to her, 
and she tried not to look at them. 

One day later on she stood leaning over the railing 
watching the steerage passengers below. Some were 
dancing and singing, others sewing and working, and 
some were seasick and miserable-looking. She stood 
thanking God in her heart that she was not one of these, 
when her attention was attracted to a forlorn-looking 
woman, prematurely old, sitting holding the head of a 
sick husband, with a crying, sick child of about three 
years holding to her on the other side. 

Amily took in the situation, and her sympathy went 
out to that woman. She called to the child and tried to 
hand it ten dollars. Of course she could not hand it, and 
a young man came up to her and took the money say- 
ing, “You have a good hearty miss. I have been watch- 


US 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


ing these people and they are very poor. The husband, 
I don’t think, can live till they reach his home in Eng- 
land. He wanted to take his wife and child to his father 
and die with his own people. He says he left home when 
he was a mere boy, to make his way in a new country, 
and he did very well till he contracted tuberculosis, 
working in an ice factory in New York. The poor wife 
is nearly crazy with despair ; she realizes he can only 
last a few days at best. He really did not have the 
strength to undertake a voyage across the ocean, but he 
was so anxious to see his old home and father and 
mother, and give them his wife and little girl, that he 
sold all they had to make the trip. I have helped her 
care for him and take care of the little girl all I could.” 

There were tears of sympathy in Amily’s eyes when 
he finished speaking. She gave him her ten dollars, not 
once thinking that she could ill afford to give it. The 
young man seemed to be of the middle class and to be 
an educated fellow. He thanked her for these poor peo- 
ple, saying: “The rich can do so much good when they 
will. While you will not miss this ten dollars as I should 
one cent, it will give the sick man comforts he could not 
have without it. I can get him wine from the first cabin, 
and he needs it to strengthen him, and also good food, 
for he has a good appetite, as all consumptives have, 
even in the last stages.” 

“I wish I were able to do more,” said Amily, “but I 
am not rich, as you imagine. I have my own living to 
make, too.” 

He looked at her in great surprise when she said that. 
She knew he judged her by her clothes. She told him 
if she could help them in a small way again, she would 
be glad to do so. 

He thanked her again, and went below. She did not 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


129 


stay to see him give the money to the distracted wife. 
She had been made so sad, that she went to her berth. 
She looked at all those beautiful flowers still in the 
boxes, to be thrown overboard that day, as they could 
not be kept any longer. As she took out the cards she 
wondered how much they had cost, and thought how 
little pleasure they had given her. 

She had not taken them out, except for a white rose 
from Charles’ or Captain Miller’s box each time she 
dressed. Then she looked over her mail, all of which 
had been opened except one big letter, which she took 
up now and broke the seal. This was the letter : 

“My Darling : 

“I won’t begin formally calling you Miss Freelan- 
hisen, for between you and me there can be no formal- 
ity. You understand me as I do you. I know each and 
every expression of your lovely face. I have seen all 
the hate and scorn you feel for me when you were com- 
pelled to smile to avoid a scene. Yet you were brave 
and bore with me for our mutual friend’s sake. I saw 
all this, which made me love you all the more. I have 
been trying to get you out of my heart ever since the 
first time we met on the sea-wall at the Pier. I have, in 
mind, accused you of all the vices and sins that human 
flesh is prone to, still I know you are as pure and good 
as an angel. Oh, how I love you ! 

“I would rather have your strong hate as my wife 
than the purest love of any other woman living. I have 
never said what I can do for you as far as money goes. 
I would worship you in the first place, and you could 
make a good man of me. You could mold me like putty 
in your hands. 

“I know all about you, thanks to the power of money. 


130 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


I have had the best genealogist in New York to look you 
up as quickly and correctly as possible, then name his 
own price. Now I know you are of noble lineage. Still, 
dear, this made not the slightest difference to me. I 
loved you before I knew this. 

“When I insulted you I was madly in love with you. 
I thought you were like all the rest of the women I had 
ever known. I could buy any of them if I paid their 
price. You surprised me, and I thought you would 
prove to be like all the rest. I watched to see. I knew 
you would soon find out my social position, and last but 
not least, my many millions of money. Then I thought 
I would have you. 

“When you told me I was not a gentleman, that you 
scorned and despised me, you little knew that you were 
only fanning the flame of my great love for you. When 
you would not accept my invitation, nor Captain Mil- 
ler’s, to be his or my guest on my yacht, I knew there 
was not another girl in New York’s Four Hundred who 
would have turned down that invitation to cruise for 
six months. 

“You, dear, a poor girl, sewing lace for the rich, can 
afford to throw over millions, not to say anything of 
the great love I offer you as my wife. You can go to the 
ancestral halls of your forefathers and build up gran- 
deurs of an almost extinct race. There is only one old 
Lady Freelanhisen, sixty-nine years of age, with no 
money, but an old chateau that is entailed. All but this 
has been confiscated by the government. 

“Your father was next in line. General Freelanhisen 
of the Army is a descendant of the German side of the 
house. He is your third cousin. Your brother Tao is 
the next to succeed after your father. You are the next 
female after Lady Emily Freelanhisen, now a resident 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


131 


of Freelanhisen Hall, Redich, England. Consequently 
you are Lady Amily. I know that won’t turn your head. 

“If you want the papers proving your right to your 
title let me know. I will gladly give them to you. 

“Try, won’t you.^ to think better of me. I wiU live 
up to what you want me to be. There is no use to say 
you hate me and despise me, and that you always will, 
and won’t speak to me unless forced to, as in the past. 
I will spare you all I can, but I will see you and be near 
you whenever I can. No matter where you go or what 
position you occupy you cannot escape me. 

“You will get many steamer letters, books, flowers, 
fruits and boxes of candy galore. I fancy you will know 
mine from the rest. I also know their fate, to the bot- 
tom of the sea, like this poor letter. Still, I shall be 
paid to know that your dear hand had touched them to 
throw them overboard. 

“You see I know you thoroughly, don’t 1.?* I have 
lost all interest in everything. I am bored to death with 
people who used to amuse me. You have spoiled my 
life already. Oh, I have tried to curse you! I have 
sworn I would hate you. It is all foolishness. I end by 
loving you more, if possible, than ever. 

“If you will marry me I will settle ten millions on you 
and you can live where you please and go where you 
wish. I do not ask your love. I will take you without it 
and teach you to love me, for ’tis said that love begets 
love in time. I am aware that you will not even write 
me a line in answer to this. I will spare you now by say- 
ing you are my only love, and will always be the one 
woman for me. 

“Good-by, and God bless you. 

“Yours always, 

“A. R. Banderwelt.” 


132 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


She read it to the end, and great big tears came to 
her eyes. She tore up the letter and scattered it to the 
winds. “To think that after this letter and all the past 
insults I have to meet this man on an equal footing. 
How can I ever speak to him again I don’t believe 
him. He has no heart; he is a beast. I dare not let 
anyone know he has made this proposal to me, for if 
they knew they would all urge me to marry him, to sell 
myself. He offers a big prize. Beth and Tao would 
think I was crazy, for I fear dear Tao and Beth are 
both a little mercenary, and they would never forgive 
me if I refused an offer like this. Beth would think of 
all I could do for her and Tao would think of all I could 
do for the Freelanhisen lost and past glory, to build it 
up again, buy back the lands and titles.” 

She lay in the steamer chair, thinking, when Captain 
Slogan invited her to walk. She arose and took his arm 
and they promenaded the deck until dinner time. She 
begged to go and prepare for dinner, and joined him 
again in a very short time, dressed in a simple white 
muslin dress, not worthy to be styled a gown, simply 
made by her own hands in Arkansas, where style is not 
much thought of. She wore a white flower in her glossy 
brown hair and one at her belt. She looked every inch 
a lady, and one would have singled her out as being the 
best dressed woman at that table, although some of 
those gowns represented a hundred dollars. 

The old captain thought her by far the prettiest girl 
he had seen for a long time. She was bright and 
entertaining, but very reserved. After dinner some 
young gentlemen and a young married belle from In- 
diana wished to play a game of bridge, and they invited 
her to join them, as they wanted another lady. She was 
a good bridge player, and the game had begun when the 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


133 


lady said : ‘‘We ought to make the stakes a little higher 
than we have played for before.” 

Amily opened her eyes wide and said: “I did not 
understand that you played for money ; you will have to 
excuse me.” 

The lady, thinking she minded the fifty cents per 
point, said: “Oh, we will make the stakes as low as you 
like.” 

“No, you don’t understand me,” said Amily. “I never 
would play for money at all, no matter what the limit 
was.” 

One of the other men said : “Then you have scruples 
about it.f^” 

“Yes. That is the way I was brought up, and I 
cannot change.” As she rose from the card table the 
woman said: “She is a pretty little goody-goody. 
Watch her; she wiU strain at a gnat and swallow a 
camel.” 

Amily strolled back to her steamer chair to lie and 
watch the beautiful moonlight on the water. Such be- 
wildering beauty of the night she had never seen. Per- 
haps it lay in the beholder’s eyes. The air was heavy 
with the fragrance of the sea, so sweet and fresh, with 
a holy quiet. She was so glad not to have to stay in 
the cabin and play bridge on a night like this. 

She had read of moonlight nights on the ocean. She 
had never imagined it was as glorious as this. In such 
an hour, mood, and place was raised the stone where 
lay buried the soul of this girl. She gave thanks to God 
for the joy of living. She did not note the passing of 
time till she heard the watchman on the bridge call two 
bells and all is well. 

She was surprised at the lateness of the hour and rose 
to go to her berth, when she was startled by someone 


134 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


by her side saying: ‘‘Miss, I have been sent by the 
woman with the sick husband. The doctor says he is 
dying and his poor wife begs for you to come to her. 
She says you have the face of an angel and she thinks 
you will not refuse to come to her in this terrible ordeal. 
She says you can comfort her as no one else can, for 
she knows a good face, and she looked into your eyes 
that spoke to her heart. I told her the first-class pas- 
sengers were all asleep and that I could not call you up 
at this hour, but she insisted so that I could not refuse 
to come, and I was so glad when the deck steward told 
me you were out here. Will you go ? I will go and pro- 
tect you. All the people below are asleep and you need 
have no fear.” 

“I am not afraid, and I will go with you.” 

When they got to the miserable bunk the man was 
about breathing his last breath. Amily put her arm 
around the poor woman and tried to soothe her. She 
had grown hysterical and was shrieking till she awoke 
the sleeping little girl on the pile of rags at her feet. 

The child cried too, not realizing what the matter 
was, but cried because her mother did. Amily took the 
little girl in her arms and quieted her, and the mother 
became more calm. Amily found a more comfortable 
place and put the child down and covered her, then 
went back to the mother, who had thrown herself on the 
body of her husband. 

The doctor, a hard, gruff man, said: “Miss, he is 
dead. You had better go. You can do no more and 
you are out of place here.” 

“No; I will stay with this poor woman,” said Amily. 
“How long before they bury the body.^” 

“At once. I have ordered the sailors to sew the man 
in sailcloth, and that takes only a little while.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 135 

“Oh,” said Amily, “he is not cold yet. It seems inhu- 
man to bury him so soon.” 

“We never keep the steerage dead one moment longer 
than necessary,” he answered. 

“Then I will remain till after that,” she answered. 

She tried to take the woman away, but she clung to 
the body of her dead husband till the sailors pulled her 
away to begin sewing the sailcloth around him. Amily 
took her to one side and held her arm about her till 
they said all was ready. 

The plank was lowered and the body placed on it, the 
ship came to a stop and a steerage passenger volun- 
teered to offer a prayer for the soul of the dead. The 
officer said, “Very well; be quick about it.” 

As he finished, they let the body slide into the sea, 
hardly making a splash. The wife shrieked and fainted ; 
the ship started on its way. Amily called to the doctor 
to do something for the woman. He placed her in her 
bunk and, pouring some brandy between her teeth, put 
some morphine in her arm and said: “She will sleep till 
morning. Miss, come with me ; I am going up now.” 

She was about to follow him when the young man 
from the steerage said, “I brought this lady here and I 
will take her back.” 

“Thank you,” she said, taking his offered arm. 

As they went he told her something of himself. “I 
am a poor medical student. I am going to Berlin to 
study and practice in the publicj hospital there. My 
father and mother died when I was fifteen years old. I 
have attended the public school and worked nights for 
my board and books. Lately I have been acting nurse 
to a sick millionaire of New York, and he paid me well. 
I hated to leave him, he was so dependent on me. I got 
him a man as good, if not better, than I, before I left 


136 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


him. I had to go in the steerage to economize. I met 
these poor creatures and tried to help them all I could. 
I know how to nurse and helped the woman nurse her 
sick husband, and she seemed grateful. That is the 
main objection to being in the steerage, one sees so much 
suffering. I am in a manner used to it, still my sym- 
pathy was aroused by the young mother trying to care 
for her child and take care of her husband too. It was a 
pitiful case. To-morrow I will take up a collection for 
her.” 

“Well, come to me and I will give you a little more,” 
she said. 

“No, I think you have given enough,” he answered. 
He bade her good-night at her stateroom door, advising 
her to go to sleep, and not get up for breakfast before 
ten o’clock. 

“Good-night,” she answered, “I hope your patient 
will rest well.” 

“Have no fear, she will sleep till morning. Again 
good-night.” 

When Amily laid her head on her pillow she prayed 
for that poor woman, and for the success of that good 
young man, and she was soon asleep. 


CHAPTER XII 


About seven o’clock the next morning she was awak- 
ened by the roaring of the wind and waves. She looked 
out and saw big waves, mountain high, and lightning 
flashing. She dressed and thought to go on deck, but 
everything was shut down and some of the people were 
breakfasting, others sick, cuddled up in the cabin and 
still others frightened and shut in their berths. 

She thought of that awful scene she had witnessed, 
that burial at sea. She could never forget the horror 
and grewsomeness of it. A few dirty emigrants, she, 
and that young man trying to console that wife till she 
fainted. She lived it over again. When she went to 
breakfast there was no one but the doctor, the young 
woman of the bridge players, and herself. Some had 
eaten, some were too sick to eat, and others too scared 
of the raging storm. 

The lady, Mrs. Cammack, asked her if she knew that 
the ship came to a dead stop last night. “So many 
have asked me what was the matter,” she said. 

The doctor answered for Amily, saying, “Yes, the 
ship came to a standstill for a few moments, about two 
o’clock, on account of some trouble with the machinery, 
which they soon fixed.” 

The lady turned to Amily saying, “Did you awake. 
Miss Freelanhisen.'^” 

“No,” she replied; “I was already awake.” 

The doctor gave her a look which said, “Don’t tell 
her,” so she gave this evasive answer. 

137 


138 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


When she left the cabin the doctor said: ‘‘You un- 
derstood me. We never tell the passengers when there 
is a burial at sea, because it causes great excitement, 
and they sometimes declare there is contagion aboard. 
You are the only one of the first-class passengers who 
was below or who knows there was a death. Please 
don’t mention it. How was it you had to witness so un- 
pleasant an affair.? Were the people known to you be- 
fore.?” 

“No; I gave the woman some money the day before 
and she sent the young man after me and begged me to 
come to her in that most trying ordeal. I was glad to 
go, if I could comfort her in any way. She certainly 
is to be pitied.” 

Though the storm still raged in all its fury, Amily 
was not afraid, notwithstanding it was the most tem- 
pestuous morning she had ever witnessed. She found a 
cozy corner with her book, and she soon forgot the fury 
of the tempest. Captain Slogan came to her side and 
said, “You are a brave girl. Everyone seems disturbed 
over this furious storm but you. Have you no nerves.? 
Even I, an old sea dog that I confess to be, am some- 
what uneasy, for really this is a pretty bad storm, — 
one of the worst I have experienced.” 

“I always think of what my mother used to quote,” 
she said ; “that God is on the sea as well as on the land.” 

“Your faith is admirable,” he answered. 

They watched the lightning play and the great peals 
of thunder sounded each time as if it had struck the 
ship. The vibration of the steel would shriek and quiv- 
er like fiends of the lower regions. 

By lunch time it was calm and the sea was as smooth 
as mirror. After lunch, while they were in their steamer 
chairs side by side. Captain Slogan was telling her of 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 139 

another storm he had been in while traveling in the 
West. 

The young man from the steerage came to them. He 
had collected fifteen dollars for the woman whose hus- 
band had died and been buried the night before. 

“I did not come to ask you to subscribe,” he said; 
‘‘you have given enough already. I wanted to tell you 
that the woman is very anxious to see you and thank 
you in person for your kindness to her. She begs you 
will see her before we land. She will go to her hus- 
band’s family and give them the little girl, as her hus- 
band wished her to do. She says she will return in a 
little while to her own people in America. She is school- 
ing herself to part from her child.” 

Amily told the old captain about the burial. It was 
the first he had heard that there had been a death. He 
said he remembered the ship coming to a full stop at 
midnight, and had asked about it next morning and was 
told it was nothing but a slight disarrangement with 
the engine, so he had thought no more about it. 

He was very sorry for the poor wife and gave twenty 
dollars. Amily said she would go back now with the 
young man, and when they went below the woman came 
to meet her with outstretched hands. 

“My dear good young lady, how sweet and good you 
are to come ! I want to thank you for your care of my 
little girl and your kindness to me in my great trouble. 
I know that God in heaven will bless you, as I do. I will 
pray for you and I will teach my child to love and pray 
for you as long as she lives. If there were more angels 
on earth like you it would be a better and kinder world.” 

“I only did what any woman would do for a sister in 
distress,” answered Amily. “Don’t thank me, as I only 
did my duty.” She told her she hoped she would be 


140 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


happy with her husband’s family and arrive there safe- 
ly, and bidding her good-by she slipped her another 
piece of money. The young man escorted her back, and 
she asked him to sit by her for a while and tell her more 
of himself. She admired him very much, he was such a 
fine, big, honest fellow, full of life and courage. 

He told her his name was Dunbar Warfield, and that 
his home was in Tarrytown, New York. He was so un- 
embarrassed and so straightforward and sure of him- 
self that she could not help but admire him. 

“He is a true type of the honorable self-made Ameri- 
can young man,” she thought. 

He told her how he had struggled to get his educa- 
tion, and what a grand good woman Helen Gould was, 
as it was through her school for young men he was try- 
ing to succeed. “She is doing a great work,” he said, 
“and is a noble Christian woman more to be admired 
and honored than if she wore a hundred royal crowns.” 

Amily was so entertained by Dunbar Warfield that 
she forgot it was getting late. He said, “We get to 
Dover in the morning and I may not have a chance to 
see you again. I wish you would give me your card. 
I will never forget you, and I should like to see your 
full name. I have only heard you called Miss Freelan- 
hisen. I hope I don’t presume.” 

“No; I will gladly give it to you, and if I come to 
Berlin, which I may do, I will let you know, if you will 
write your address for me,” handing him a small memo- 
randum. 

He wrote his name and address in a bold firm hand 
and gave it to her. In taking it their eyes met, and she 
blushed scarlet at what she read in his. When she had 
given him her card with her London address he bade her 
good-night. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


141 


“I will see you as you pass off the ship,” he said. “I 
presume you have an escort to the train.” 

“Oh, yes I Captain Slogan goes to London on the 
same train and has made up his mind to stop at the St. 
Ermius Hotel, too.” 

“How long will you be in London.?” he asked. 

“That I cannot say. I will surely be there till the 
last of October. I have some friends who will join me 
there then. I may change my address to a private 
place, but will leave my address at the Hotel St. Ermius 
when I go. I may be out of the city for a week or ten 
days at a time. I will be at Redich, about fifty miles 
from London.” 

Next morning she was ready with coat and hat on. 
When they landed Dunbar Warfield was there, too, by 
her side. She looked into his honest eyes with such con- 
fidence. Why had she placed so much store by the 
faith of this man from the steerage.? That fact alone 
would shut him out of notice with the fashionable young 
woman of that select circle which she had fallen in with 
lately. Yet she would trust him with anything, any- 
where. She hated to part with him, as she felt she was 
losing a protector just when she needed one most. 

Launched out into that big world, new to her, Lon- 
don, emotions of the impulsive sort filled her mind. 
“The nearer I approach this life the plainer I hear 
around me immortal symphonies of the world which in- 
vites me on, on.” 

He said, “If you ever need me or want a protector let 
me know. I will come to you wherever you are.” 

“Thank you,” she answered. “I believe, I know, you 
would.” 

He held her hand, feverishly enjoying that moment, 
crowding eternities into that brief space. Lastly he 


142 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


said, ‘‘Good-by. God bless you and keep you good and 
true, as I know you are.” 

When he turned to go he saw a tear on her eyelash. 
Captain Slogan said he had attended to her baggage, 
and he helped her into the train. The last glimpse she 
got of Warfield he stood in the very same position wav- 
ing his hand, but a sadder parting she had never experi- 
enced, and now she was trying to solve that unexplain- 
able question. She had not felt so sad and lonely, even 
when she parted from Beth, Dobson and Body, starting 
out alone, leaving all that was dear to her. 

Now she wanted to cry. She laid her head back and 
closed her eyes. Having a compartment to herself, she 
finally succumbed and had a good cry. She asked her- 
self, “Why am I crying to leave a stranger.? I have 
only known him a few days. I am surely getting daffy. 
I won’t think of him. I know nothing about him ; only 
the little he has told me. How foolish to argue with my- 
self this way. I do know him as well as if I had been 
living with him from boyhood. I understand him as he 
does me, without words. I know perfectly well he is 
one of nature’s noblemen. Can any title beat that.? I 
will forget him. There are so many like him at home. 
America is made up of his kind.” 

She tried to read a book, but when she had finished 
chapter after chapter she wondered what she had been 
reading. She saw nothing in these lines by the big hon- 
est gray eyes of Dunbar Warfield. She was so pro- 
voked at herself that she got up and tossed the book 
on the seat, and looking at the landscape tried to be- 
come interested in that. 

She was so restless, so unlike herself, she feared she 
was going to be ill. The train made a stop and Captain 
Slogan came and talked to her, asking if she enjoyed 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


143 


the beautiful scenery through which they had passed. 
She gave an evasive answer. Soon he said: “We wiU 
be in London before long. That is the river Thames 
now. I sent a telegram to the St. Ermius Hotel to 
secure rooms.” 

“That was thoughtful,” replied Amily, “but I think 
my friends in New York wrote a few weeks back to 
secure a room for me. They expect to join me in about 
two months. How long will you be in the city, Cap- 
tain 

“I shall remain about six weeks, before I go to Hull. 
My business will keep me there all winter. I will not 
return to New York before May or June.” 

“I am so glad, as I will not feel so alone.” 

When they arrived at St. Ermius Hotel they were 
shown to their respective rooms, and when Amily took 
off her traveling coat, hat, and gloves she looked around 
this spacious apartment, with a beautiful private bath, 
and thought: “How could Captain Miller have had 
such expensive quarters reserved for me, when he knew 
I could not afford them I It is quite useless to tell Cap- 
tain Slogan. He is quite old and would not understand, 
so to-morrow after he goes out I will go and tell the 
clerk to stow me away in a closet or under a stairway, 
or I will have to go out to hunt a room in a private 
place.” 

She looked on her dresser and there were a number of 
letters and mail for her. That made her feel more at 
home than anything since she had left her friends. She 
sat by the window on the fifth floor of the hotel, read- 
ing a letter from Beth in the convent at St. Louis. 
Beth was more contented with her school and her 
studies. She said her sister-in-law, Jane, was so good 
and kind to her, that she came out to the convent 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


144 

and brought all kinds of good things to eat and took 
her for rides in her fine auto every Saturday. Conse- 
quently Beth was in a manner happy. “Brother Tao 
thinks you will disgrace the family,” wrote Beth, “run- 
ning about Europe alone. He is awful mad at you, 
Amily, and says you are crazy, and won’t let me men- 
tion your name to him. Sister Jane and I talk about 
you all the time, and I know you will always do the 
right thing, and marry a duke or a prince or some of 
the titled royalty. Then you can send for me and I 
will live with you. I received the big box of things you 
sent me before you left New York. They are nice and 
I send you lots of love and kisses for them.” 

When she had finished reading Beth’s letter, she 
took a hath, dressed herself in that one dinner gown 
and felt so refreshed that she could have walked for 
miles. Down in the foyer was the old captain in full 
dress waiting to take her in to dinner. 

When she was seated she looked about her and she 
could single out the Americans. The Hotel St. Ermius 
is a place where American tourists frequent, as it is not 
one of the most expensive hotels. Captain Miller, in 
selecting it for Amily, thought she would feel more at 
home where so many Americans stop, and then, too, 
he thought of the expense. 

She saw that the Americans were dressed in better 
taste, while the English women, most of them, wore low- 
necked gowns and drank ale and wines with their dinner. 
The Americans erred in dining in their tailor suits or 
traveling dresses, coming in from shopping, sight-seeing 
or riding, without changing for dinner. 

After dinner she sat on the front veranda with the 
old man, while he indulged in a cigar. After he had 
finished his cigar they took a walk up past the Army 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


145 


and Navy store, which is only a few blocks away. Then 
they returned by way of Westminster. Before they 
parted he promised to take her sight-seeing the next 
day. 

She retired early, as she wanted to be well rested the 
next day, as she wanted to go about while Captain Slo- 
gan was there to show her the city, so that she would 
not fear to go alone when he had gone to Hull. 

Next day she was up bright and early, and ready 
for an early breakfast. She was a little surprised to 
find the captain waiting in the foyer for her, reading a 
paper. He praised her for being an early riser, and 
she told him she had always been one. They went in to 
a Continental breakfast, a roll and coffee. When they 
finished they stopped in a parlor on the first floor to 
look at a very beautiful picture by Van Dyke. 

As they were leaving the room a fine-looking for- 
eigner came and said to her: “Excuse me, but I think 
I have known you in America.” 

She recognized Le Comte Batas Beamer, whom she 
had met several years before at her brother’s house 
in St. Louis, the year of the World’s Fair. He was 
there stopping at the Spanish Legation. She was de- 
lighted to meet him. When she presented Captain Slo- 
gan, he said: “I thought you were a stranger in Lon- 
don and here you are meeting a friend of long stand- 
ing.” 

She laughed, and said she had not remembered where 
he lived. The Comte told them he was in London only 
for a short stay of several months, and was living in 
this hotel. They talked of America, St. Louis, and 
their mutual friends. They told the Comte that they 
were just going out to see the sights of London and they 
invited him to accompany them. 


146 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


He said he would be delighted, as time hung heavy 
on his hands. They drove to the art galleries and the 
Comte enjoyed seeing Amily’s eyes kindle with delight 
at the many beautiful, priceless pictures. At lunch 
time she was tired, and only realized it when they sat 
at lunch in a very exclusive club, where the Comte had 
taken them as his guests. 

The room was full of English aristocrats. Le Comte 
was at home here. He seemed to know everyone, and 
when they had finished lunch they went to a reception- 
room, or parlor, where some others had preceded them. 
The Comte brought up some of his friends and intro- 
duced them. One languid young nobleman, talking to 
this pretty American, who had just arrived in London, 
thought to enlighten her on who and what they all were, 
and in the course of the conversation the gilded youth 
said in the most languid manner, “We came over with 
the Conqueror, you know.” To which Amily replied, 
“Oh, that must have been very trying. I came over 
with the Lusitania.” The sarcasm was lost on the 
young man. 

He asked her whom she was kin to — the Morgans, 
Renselears, Sloans, Fricks, the Astors, and some other 
millionaires of whom he had heard. He thought she 
must be one of these or she would not be lunching with 
Le Comte Batas Beamer. He was very gracious and 
charming to her on that account, and she being a very 
pretty girl, he said as she looked into his eyes : “By 
Jove, Miss Freelanhisen, how awfully charming you 
look to-day. Our fine English climate has begun to put 
the roses into your cheeks already.” 

“No,” she answered, “I brought them from sunny 
America. I fear this fog will not be conducive to 
roses.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


147 


“I beg your pardon, don’t you know, of course you 
brought roses with you.” 

She laughed and said, “Well, I started with quite a 
lot, but had to throw them overhoard after the third 
day. I believe, though, our deck steward did save 
some longer to place on our table in front of me, he 
was so little, blond, and stupid.” 

One old English lord, Fitznod, heard Amily, he being 
one of the party, and he said to himself : “This flippant 
American girl pays scant respect to old nobility, in 
spite of the fact she is over here trying to buy a title 
with her father’s millions.” 

He was judging Amily by many of the very rich who 
come to London and Paris each year and expend vast 
sums of money for the purpose of buying permission 
to join the lock-step of the London season, and maybe 
to sell a daughter into the nobility. 

One of the leading periodicals said recently, in an 
article on London society: “It does not matter 
whether your ancestors came over with the Conqueror, 
or whether your name is written in the Domesday Book, 
if you have your American millions you can make an 
impression on London society regardless of the English 
proverbial love for blue blood.” 

Amily thought: “If I should tell this weak numb- 
skull of a nobleman that I work for my living, I am 
quite sure he would fall in a faint.” 

She could not help smiling when she thought of his 
thinking her a millionairess. He asked to call on her, 
and she told him she would he glad to see him if he 
could catch her in, as she would be out a great deal. 
She told him she did not know much of the English 
or English ways. He said he would love to teach her, 
and she told him she would gladly learn. Poor fellow 1 


148 


. OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


he was already letting himself fall in love with her, al- 
though he did not know it. 

She saw she had made an impression, but was not 
concerned about it, as she knew how to be rid of him 
and cure his love. When he bored her too much she 
would have only to say, “I work for my living,” and he 
would fly from her as he would from a pest. 

The old lord, Fitznod, told her at parting that he 
was pleased to have met her, that the American girls 
seemed so independent. “Our girls are so shrinking 
and reserved that it is novel to meet you, don’t you 
know,” this in a nasal tone. He came close to her to 
say this. The spirit of command was in her eyes that 
summoned him; there was something regal about her, 
and he recognized it. He bowed very low, saying he 
would be glad to meet her again. The ladies of the 
party were very cold and haughty and condescendingly 
polite. Amily thought that if she were to begin what 
is termed the London season here, beginning the first of 
May and ending the last of July, that she would be 
frozen into an iceberg by the chilly hospitality of these 
titled, big, awkward blonde, dull, English women. 

“I must not criticize them too hard, however, as I 
myself am partly English. Anyhow, I will wait till I 
see more of them, maybe these few are so awfully blue- 
blooded that they are at the freezing point.” 

Going back to the hotel in the automobile Le Comte 
said to Amily: 

“How do you like what you have seen of the English 
ladies?” 

“Oh, I have not seen enough of them to judge,” she 
replied. 

“Do you think them good-looking? As a whole, I 
mean.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 149 

‘‘Well, I thought them very strong and healthy, but 
a bit frigid.” 

“Yes,” he answered, “I agree with you. They impress 
me that way. They are not so self-possessed and easy 
with foreigners as the Americans or our own Spanish 
ladies. I say ‘our ladies,’ because I was born in Spain, 
though I have been everywhere else more than there 
since. I have lived in England most of my life, while 
I have lived a great part in New York.” 

Captain Slogan insisted on the Comte staying to 
dinner, as it was nearly dinner time. He had a pre- 
vious engagement, but said he would see them again 
the next day. 

Amily thanked him, and told him she would never 
have seen all the interesting places and things if he 
had not shown them and explained everything. They 
both thanked him and he answered : “The pleasure was 
mine, I assure you.” 

When he had gone they talked of all they had seen 
and the places they had been, and Amily said : “I don’t 
think I ever did get in as much in one day. One can 
live a century here in a few months at this rate.” 

The old man laughed at her enthusiasm. He told 
her he was so sorry he could not go with her the next 
day, as he had to report to his people, and that he 
would see her at dinner the following day. 

He told her he had gotten tickets to the theatre and 
she must run along up to her room and get a little 
rest, as she must be tired. 

She said, “No, not a bit tired, but I will rest a little, 
anyway, before I dress for dinner. I shall wait till 
you come.” 

When she put on a lounging gown and threw herself 
on her bed she thought : “What am I doing, going out 


150 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


with these gentlemen and without a chaperone? Cap- 
tain Miller put me in care of the dear old Captain Slo- 
gan, and he is such a dear, old, fatherly thing, and I 
know I am giving him more pleasure than he is giving 
me. He surely would be lonely and he cannot see well, 
and I read the addresses and street numbers for him. 
I reaUy don’t see how he gets about when I am not with 
him. I shall insist on buying the tickets the next time 
we go to the theatre.” 

While she was thinking she dropped to sleep and was 
soon wakened by a knock at her door. She unlocked 
the door and a boy handed her a box addressed to Miss 
Freelanhisen. She took the box and the boy held out 
his hand. She did not quite know what he meant, and 
as she looked at him he drawled out, “A tip, mum.” 
She gave him twenty-five cents, and he was so pleased 
that he said, “Now, miss, as you wants anything you 
jes calls me, number thirteen.” 

She said she would remember him. She now realized 
why he was so pleased. The English give very small 
tips, but often, and she had given him, in their money, 
about two or three shillings. 

She opened the box, and in it were one dozen of the 
most beautiful pale pink orchids she had ever seen. On 
top was the card of Le Comte Batas Beamer, and writ- 
ten thereon was, “My compliments to Miss Freelanhi- 
sen.” 

Amily was perfectly delighted with them, for they 
were the first orchids of which she had ever had a whole 
dozen. When she had her bath she put on her black 
chantilly lace dress with a bunch of those lovely flowers 
at her bosom and a single one at the left side of the 
hair. She had a little pink gauze fan given her by her 
sister, Jane Red, and she put it on a little old slender 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 161 

chain that had been her mother’s, and put it around 
her neck. 

Her dress fitted so well to her pretty, girlish figure 
and she wore it with so much natural style she really 
was a beautiful picture. The old captain told her so. 
He had told her that she reminded him of his daughter, 
about her age, who had died a year before his wife. 
To-night he thought she looked more like her than ever 
before. 

He seemed to be very proud of Amily as he saw people 
look at her with admiration depicted in their eyes. 
When they entered the theatre they took their seats, 
which were in a very conspicuous place, with a full view 
of the fashionable audience. 

Some of the people she had lunched with recognized 
them, and could not help but acknowledge to them- 
selves that the old man with the gray hair and military 
appearance and the beautiful stylish American girl 
were surely distinguished-looking. Yet the girl wore 
no jewels, and if you studied her you would see she was 
very simply gowned. 

One old dowager explained to herself: ‘Tt is the 
pink orchids and the grace of the American girl,” 
though she would not have given voice to that compli- 
ment for anything. 

Her nephew by her side kept his glasses on Amily 
and Lady Storm reproved him, saying: “You are miss- 
ing the play by looking all the time in the other direc- 
tion.” 

He answered, “By Jove! there is a deuced good-look- 
ing person just across.” 

The old lady shrugged her broad shoulders and said, 
“Rather American. New rich, I presume. It is really 
shocking the way these pretty, pert American girls 


152 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


come over here and catch our titled young men, just as 
their rich fathers come and take away our great art 
treasures.” 

The young lord yawned and said : “Aunty dear, this 
one could catch and take me awfully easy, don’t you 
know.” 

Amily enjoyed the play immensely, and told Captain 
Slogan she had never seen a play so beautiful before. 

“Don’t you think some of the men are rather rude.f*” 
she said. “Some of them in the boxes kept their glasses 
on me so much I dared not look. I wanted to look at 
the Countess de Castellane, but I dared not. There was 
a person with her party in the box next and nearest to 
us that was so rude I could not look that way without 
blushing.” 

The captain laughed and said: “My dear, you are 
good to look at, and they cannot help seeing that you 
are from over the pond, and when greed of money takes 
full possession of the titled gentry’s soul they are ready 
to supply almost any demand that has the promise of 
profit in it. Yet it is a horrible situation, is it not.f^” 

“Why, don’t they ever work.?” 

“Well, I believe they do occasionally ; but when they 
do, I believe they make miserable failures of it. I think 
there is a real count acting porter in this hotel, the big, 
fine-looking fellow at the desk in the office. He earns his 
board here and he depends on the tips he gets to supply 
his clothes and other expenses. Also, he stands a 
chance here to meet a foolish rich American girl to sell 
his title to, with himself as a job lot.” 

She laughed at this description that the captain gave. 


CHAPTER XIII 


The next morning while Amily was alone she thought 
that it would be a good time to go to the office and talk 
to the head clerk about her apartment, to find out what 
she was paying, and see if she could afford to stay on 
at the hotel till the Millers came. She had promised 
to meet them there and she must not spend her thousand 
dollars that Mr. Weicliff had given her. She still had 
dear old Body’s one hundred, as she had made her work 
pay all her expenses. 

Now she must begin to-day to hunt a lace shop and 
try to find work. So far she had been taken up with 
seeing the sights, and had indulged in going out and 
having a good time just as if she were really rich. 

“I rave no more against time or fate, for so my own 
shall come to me. Nothing can keep my own away 
from me. The devotees of right and honor are urged 
on, on, to their fate, and that fate is usually great, good 
deeds. Those who make a close and reverent study of 
the plan of our Saviour, as found in the New Testament, 
are unable to understand intolerance or bigotry in any 
shape whatsoever, and my aim shall be this : I am too 
aristocratic to be unkind, and too royal to be small, 
narrow, or inhuman. I shall keep well and strong, pure- 
minded, and make everyone around me happy, if I can, 
and we Americans have liberty, equality emblazoned 
on our hearts. We deem it a grave blunder to make an 
outcry over the scandals of English kings and queens 
163 


164 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


of history. We highly honor Queen Victoria as a good, 
noble, pure Christian woman. Of course there were 
others, but she is of our time.” 

Amily went to the office and asked to speak to the 
head clerk of the hotel. While she waited the officious 
Count came to her bowing and scraping, and asking 
what he could do for Miss Freelanhisen. She recog- 
nized him at once from Captain Slogan’s description. 
He really was handsome and distinguished-looking, but 
so familiar and important he was puffed up like a fan- 
tailed pigeon. 

‘‘I am waiting to see the clerk, she said, and just then 
the clerk came. He led her to a side seat near the 
back of the office. She told him she wanted a cheaper 
room and he said: “My dear young lady’s room was 
engaged and paid for in advance by one Captain Miller, 
who wants the adjoining apartment reserved for him- 
self and family the latter part of October.” 

“Oh, very well,” was all Amily said. “I did not know 
he had paid in advance.” 

“Do you like the apartment.?” he asked. 

“Yes, very much,” she answered. “I will just keep it 
till my friends come.” 

She went out for a little shopping. She found her 
way over to Dimkin & Jones’, one of the best dry goods 
stores, and asked to be shown some ready to wear 
evening gowns. The young lady showed her some lovely 
things, but she said she wanted to see some not so ex- 
pensive. The girl then told her the prices of them, and 
Amily was very astonished, for they were offered to her 
for much less than the material would cost at home. 

She was so tempted that she bought a lovely pale 
blue chiffon that almost fitted perfectly. 

They made a little alteration without extra expense. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


155 


She then asked the saleswoman if she could tell her of 
a lace mending and cleaning place. She told her of 
one of the best shops and several others right near 
where she was. 

Amily wrote the addresses down and on her way to 
the St. Ermius she called. The proprietor seemed to 
hesitate and look at her with some suspicion. She told 
him she had mended lace with perfect satisfaction in 
New York. He told her he had to send his mending 
orders to Paris. 

She said, “Won’t you try me and see what my work 
is.?” 

He said he thought it was only the French and Ital- 
ian women that could do that work to perfection. 

“I did work for a French place in New York, who 
used to send work to Paris. They liked my work and 
paid me what they said they paid in Paris.” 

Surveying her over and over, with more suspicion, 
the man said: “You do not look like one who works; 
you really look like a lady.” 

“I am very thankful, sir, that I do not deceive my 
looks,” she answered. “I am a lady. Ladies in my 
country are not ashamed of honest work when they 
find it necessary for them to work for their own liv- 
ing.” 

“Where do you live.?” he asked. 

She told him at the St. Ermius, and he raised his 
brows and shrugged his shoulders, as a Frenchman 
would. 

“Well, I will let you take a piece,” and he gave her 
a lace coat, a short one. It was torn in a zigzag way 
and she told him it would be hard to mend and that she 
did not think it would be a fair test of what she could 
do. 


156 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Yes, I know that is a particular piece,” he said, “and 
was about to send it away. It was for Lady North, 
and she wanted it as soon as she could get it.” 

Amily told him it would take her over a week to do 
it, and she asked what he would pay. She was surprised 
when he told her he could pay only two pounds for it. 
“About ten dollars,” thought Amily, turning the Eng- 
lish money to an American equivalent. She told him 
that in New York they would pay her twenty dollars for 
a piece of work like that, as the lace was very fine old 
point, and she said she would not do it for less than 
three pounds. 

He talked and argued, and finally told her he would 
pay her price if it was a good job. She knew he would 
make Lady North pay him at least ten pounds. The 
coat was a fine one; worth five hundred dollars, she 
concluded. Amily was a good judge of lace. 

Going along looking in the show windows she saw 
some lace in one window, and she went inside. An old 
Jew came to wait on her, and she told him she saw some 
lace in front and as she was a lace mender she thought 
he would give her some lace to mend. He was vener- 
able, with his white hair and suave manner. 

He said: “My dear young woman, this is a pawn 
shop. The lace in my window is pawned. Have you 
something to pawn.?” looking at her package. 

“No ; I wish lace to mend,” she said. 

He laughed, saying, “If the fine lady who pawned this 
does not redeem it soon, it might need mending. She has 
other things here, too. The poor little beauty is a great 
gambler, and is always broke. She has her watch, her 
bracelet, and no end of things here. She promised to 
redeem that gown before the state ball, and, instead, she 
brought that gold purse to get a loan. She says her 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


157 


brother is about to marry an American with lots and 
lots of money, and then she will be fixed. She will re- 
deem all her property. She is one good little woman. 
She says to me she has had a bad run of luck. She has 
been my good customer for a long time — I don’t know 
how long. She used to pay big interest, what I asked 
her, and always paid it without one word. Now all the 
money is gone and she tells me she gambles to get it 
back. She calls me Uncle Abraham, I have known her 
so long, and I have been a friend to her. She is in the 
royal family. I don’t tell the name. She comes incog- 
nito, in a taxicab.” 

While she was listening to the cunning old Jew a pale, 
delicate-looking man, about thirty years old, prema- 
turely gray, with great dark eyes, as innocent and 
mild-looking as a baby, came in. He was distinguished 
even to the tips of his fine slender fingers. He was 
looking into a collection of old things and did not at 
first notice Amily. 

On passing him her foot caught in an old rug and 
she tripped and would have fallen had the man not 
caught her in his arms. She was so embarrassed she 
stammered out, “How awkward I am! I did not see 
there was a rug.” 

He picked up her package and handed it to her, their 
eyes met, and he was speechless with admiration. What 
was it she saw in his beautiful dark eyes.?* 

“My fate, sure,” she thought. “Now I know it. Oh, 
my God! I do not like my father’s people. I have 
said that I would go and see who and what they are 
like, but I will never be one of them. What magnetism 
in that man’s eyes! I will never look into his face 
again.” 

She was on the sidewalk walking fast, with these 


158 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


thoughts in her mind, when she heard the same, sweet 
musical voice saying: “You left your parasol; allow 
me,” opening it for her. 

She thanked him again. Now a shower of rain came 
suddenly. He looked at her and said, “You really need 
your parasol.” 

She answered, “Yes,” and he took a step or two by 
her side, saying, “My car is right here. You are a 
stranger in our city, I can see, and far from your 
hotel. Won’t you let me drive you there 

She hesitated and thanked him saying: “I have an- 
other stop to make.” She saw he was not impertinent 
and was a gentleman in every sense of the word. 

He answered, “I have plenty of time and could wait 
for you.” 

She blushed, and for the first time in all her life she 
felt ill at ease. She did not know how to refuse, yet 
she could not accept this invitation from a stranger. 
So she said, “I could not trouble you.” 

He turned with a sad, disappointed look in those 
clear, childlike eyes. He started back the way he had 
come. She went into the first store she came to and 
asked to see some trivial thing. Handkerchiefs was 
the first thing that came to her mind, and when she had 
purchased a cheap one she came out and, looking back, 
saw a beautiful auto in front of the pawnshop. She 
walked to the corner, turned out of sight, and called a 
taxicab, saying, “Drive me quickly to the St. Ermius 
Hotel.” 

When she sat in her room she was agitated and ner- 
vous. “What has come to me on my eighteenth birth- 
day.^ I had really forgotten that it was my birthday. 
My little friend, Charles Renselear, told me to open his 
present on my birthday. He thought it would be the 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 159 

first day that I arrived in London, but he was mis- 
taken.” 

She unlocked her trunk, took the little box to the 
light. When she took the ring out, she was delighted 
with it. It was a beautiful pure white diamond, and 
it fitted her third finger. 

“Bless his heart! he trusted me first of aU, and I 
shall love the dear, sweet, frank boy always. I promised 
him my friendship, and he promised to be my friend 
and protector, and this beautiful ring is to seal that 
compact. I do not hesitate to accept it, as his mother 
selected it for him to give me.” 

She turned it over and over, from one finger to the 
other, letting the light fall on it, and saying to her- 
self: “I wish my sister Jane could see this lovely ring. 
She will be glad I have it.” 

The ring diverted her for a while, but she forgot it 
soon as her mind returned to the stranger she had 
met a few hours since. Would she ever see him again.? 
She thought to herself, “I hope not,” but in her heart 
she thought: “I want to see him all my life through. 
I wonder if he is married or single. Was he sad or 
melancholy.? I thought he looked rather sad, and his 
voice was so gentle and sweet I shall hear it in my 
dreams. And the sweet expression of his face; can I 
ever get it out of my mind.?” 

She got up and changed her dress for dinner, for she 
had not lunched and was very hungry. She walked 
up and down an upper porch in front of her window 
and she went over every detail of the stranger’s ap- 
pearance. She could recall everything, although she 
had dared not look at him. 

Oh, how she wanted to know more of him! She 
wished she could know his name. He might be a married 


160 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

man. Oh, that keen pain in her heart to even think 
of it! 

“If he is, it is a sin to give him another thought. I 
am sure he is not married or he could not have looked 
at me like he did. I wonder why Captain Slogan does 
not send for me to go to dinner. I was so hungry when 
I came in, now I have no appetite, I cannot eat. I will 
go to dinner, anyway. Maybe when I am at the table 
I can eat.” 

When Amily went to the dining-room the captain was 
not there, and she supposed he was dining with some 
friends. She finished and walked to the parlor and sat 
for a few minutes watching some English women who 
were taking their coffee and smoking cigarettes. She 
had heard about women smoking, but she had never 
seen it before — except in Ginger. 

One weak-looking individual with a monocle sat and 
puffed the smoke of his cigarette in the face of a big 
blonde girl, and she did not seem to mind it. Amily 
thought how ill-bred it was, and she could smell the 
smoke, which was very disagreeable to her. She left the 
parlor and went to her room, to find on her table a lot 
of mail for her. She was glad to get it. 

One letter was from her friend, Mrs. Miller, one from 
her sister-in-law, Jane, one from Charles Renselear 
congratulating her on her birthday, and, best of all, a 
letter from dear old nurse Body, in the Ozarks. She 
had gotten some one to write it for her. This was what 
she wrote: 

“My Own Chile: 

“I got all dem sweet letters, jes’ lake you talk, and 
I felt lake you was settin’ right here by yo’ black 
mammy. I got dat little picture you sent me from New 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


161 


York, it is jes’ lake you and I jes’ kiss it and I keep 
it in my bosom. Yo’ need not talk about sending back 
that hundred dollars to me. I give it to yo’, child, and 
I don’t want it back. I gat a plenty. Miss Jane, she 
sends me a lot of clothes and I done saved some mo’ 
money from de eggs. Der is nobody here to eat em 
now. I makes a plenty and if yo’ want any more, I 
will send yo’ that, cause, chile, I don’t want it. I’s 
savin’ it for yo’ when you come home, anyway. All I 
want is you, my chile. I wants my chile. Yo’ say yo’ 
is going to take me wif yo’ next time yo’ go. Well, 
i’ll go wif yo’, when yo’ come git me. 

“Dobson done write me funny letters an’ said he 
wants some of mammy’s ginger cakes and some of 
bossy’s good, sure nough sweet milk. Dat boy sure do 
love to eat. Dis here white woman writing for me is 
getting tired, but I going to giv’ her a settin’ of eggs 
for writing this letter. Don’t you git homesick, I taken 
good care of your house till you come. God bless you, 
till I see you, my chile. I am 

“Your 

“Body.” 

Amily cried when she read this letter, but as her 
composure returned her thoughts drifted to the man 
she had seen in the pawnshop. She said to herself : 
“I will make some excuse to go there; maybe he will 
leave his name. Maybe the Jew knows who he is. I 
cannot ask him, but he might remember that we were 
there at the same time and call his name. Oh, I do 
want to see him again!” 


CHAPTER XIV 


Lord Douglas went to the pawnshop to see if his 
friend, Sir John Russell, had pawned his family dia- 
monds. He had heard that he was so much embarrassed 
that he had to borrow till he had reached the limit and 
now had to pawn the family plate and jewels. He was 
fond of Sir John and wanted to help him if he could, 
and went to the Jew pawnshop to make sure before he 
committed himself. 

After following Amily out on the sidewalk he re- 
turned to the shop and asked the Jew who the young 
lady was who had just left the shop. He told him he 
did not know her name, but that she had asked him if 
the tramcars went by the St. Ermius Hotel, and she had 
come in because she saw some fine lace in the window, 
and she wanted lace to mend. 

“She does not look like a working girl. I know she 
is one lady. I know them, ’cause they come to me when 
they get in trouble and have lost all their money at 
cards. Maybe she is one of the royal ladies, and hated 
to show me her jewels at the last and just made the 
excuse of the lace mending. Yet she did not look trou- 
bled as the rest do when they come to me with the 
family plate and things.” 

The old Jew shrugged his shoulders and winked his 
eye, and placing his finger by his nose he whispered in 
a stage whisper: “She is one lovely beauty and she 
will come back. This is the first offense.” 

162 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


163 


My Lord Richard Douglas, though only thirty years 
of age, had led a career singularly crowded with varied 
experiences and romantic adventures. Of noble birth, 
before him in youth opened a brilliant career in the 
world of society and pleasure. 

He believed in the study of himself, his favorite max- 
im being “Know thyself.” He believed in the purest 
system of morals and was a great lover of wisdom. He 
had been loved by many a woman, but had never loved 
one in return. Neither had he betrayed one. 

He was a friend of all women for his mother’s sake, 
and had the true dignity of a monarch and a great 
student. Some thought him older than he really was. 

When he told his chauffeur to drive him home he told 
him to go by way of St. James Park, that took him 
by Westminster S. W., and of course the St. Ermius 
Hotel. He was almost tempted to go through the lobby 
or go read over the register. 

While he was contemplating thus someone about to 
turn in to the porte-cochere of the St. Ermius accosted 
him, saying, “Hello there. Rich!” Turning, he saw 
Count Batas Beamer waving to him to pull up. 

When Lord Douglas saw who it was that had hailed 
him he stopped, and the Count said, “Which way, Rich- 
ard .?” 

“Oh, I was only passing,” he answered. 

“I am stopping here at the St. Ermius. Won’t you 
come in and lunch with me.?” said the Count. 

“You stopping here.? I thought you lived at the 
Inverness.” 

“Yes, I have lived there; and, in fact, I live there 
now, but I have some American friends staying here 
and I have taken up my abode here for the present. 
Shortly I shall be leaving for Paris and later to Monte 


164 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


Carlo. Can’t you go with me, old boy, and try your 
luck again at Monte Carlo 

‘‘No,” he said. “I thank you, however, but I have 
given up gambling. I have not gambled for some years 
now. I won’t say I don’t play at chance in a small way, 
as you know. I play scat and bridge just for amuse- 
ment. I don’t win or lose, so to speak, I come out about 
even.” 

“I’m very sorry you won’t come in to lunch with me 
now,” said the Count. 

“I have an engagement to lunch with my aunt. Lady 
Mack, at her town house,” answered Lord Douglas. 

“Well, won’t you come to dinner here with me to- 
morrow evening.?^ I want you to meet my little Ameri- 
can friend and her protector. Captain Slogan. She is 
a beautiful young girl. She is stopping here to wait 
for a party of Americans who expect to join her here, 
and I understand they put her in care of this old Cap- 
tain Slogan. They came over together. She is very 
young and exceedingly pretty. If you come I can 
assure you that you won’t be bored.” 

“I am not afraid of being bored with you as host,” 
he answered. 

“Then I may expect you at six o’clock said the 
Count. 

“I shall be delighted,” and with that Lord Douglas 
was soon out of the street and around the corner of 
Westminster. As he rode along he was wondering 
if the Count’s friend could be the beautiful girl he saw 
at the pawnshop; she surely looked every inch Ameri- 
can. Beamer had said she was pretty ; but that did not 
fit her — she was beautiful. 

His heart began to quicken its beats at the thought 
that it might be she whom he was to meet at dinner 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 165 

the very next evening. He was afraid to hope, as that 
was too good to be true. 

When he was at lunch with his aunt, Lady Mack, the 
old lady accused him of being absent-minded. He was 
usually full of news and talked a great deal. She never 
remembered his being so reticent. She asked if he 
were quite well and he told her he never felt better in 
his life. 

She scolded him in a playful way, telling him he was 
stupid. She had asked in another couple to play 
bridge. His partner was an English girl, no longer 
young, but very handsome and bright, a very fine con- 
versationalist, as well as a good partner. She was one 
of the best horsewomen in London. She rode each 
morning down Rotten Row and was greatly admired 
for her fine figure and graceful management of her 
mount. She was usually accompanied by a gentleman 
as well as a groom. 

Lord Douglas liked her, and enjoyed hearing her 
bright, lively gossip. She was well posted about all 
that was going on in the very exclusive set. 

To-day, however, she did not interest him. Lady 
Mack and her partner beat the third rubber at bridge 
and Lord Douglas made a trivial excuse to go. The 
other gentleman insisted that he should play another 
rubber, but his aunt said, “Do, pray, let him go. He 
is positively stupid. Richard, go see your doctor ; your 
liver is not acting, and do come again when you are 
cured.” 

He went up and kissed her, and told her he was sorry 
he had been so dull, but that he never was in better 
health. 

“Then you must be in love,” said the young woman. 
She turned pale at his flush of red. His aunt had been 


166 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


throwing them together a great deal this year, as she 
thought it time he should be getting a wife, and she 
thought Miss Ophelia Orr was the right one for him. 
She was so intellectual and had great tact and social 
position, and a good dower. She was a special friend 
of the old lady’s and did everything to please her. 

When she was introduced at court she was considered 
a great beauty, rather haughty, with a broad, high 
forehead, big, flashing eyes, very red cheeks, hair as 
black as jet, a perfect nose, and a very tall, fine figure. 
She was now in her thirty-first year, though she looked 
about twenty-five. 

After Lord Douglas had gone she said to Lady Mack : 
“What can have come over the spirit of Richard .f’ I 
never saw him so changed. Whom has he seen.? Whom 
has he been with.? I know he has met someone. Could 
it be that his old flame. Lady May, has come back from 
Russia.?” 

“My dear Ophelia, I will tell you again, as I have 
many times before, that it would not concern him in the 
least if she came to live on her estate next to his own. 
He never really loved her. That is why she married 
that Russian nobleman. She knew he did not love her. 
He told her so when he promised to marry her to save 
her honor when she had concealed herself in his chateau. 
She knew Richard to be the soul of honor, and as he 
never loved anyone else, she made him promise to marry 
her to save her honor. She now lives with her husband 
and two pretty children, seemingly very contented. 
Her husband adcires her, and she has gotten over her 
infatuation for Richard long ago.” 

“Well, then, he has at last fallen in love. I shall find 
out, rest assured.” 

“Dear Ophelia, I think maybe he is worried over the 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


167 


reverses and troubles of his friend, Sir John Russell. 
He was talking to me about him the last time he was 
here.” 

“Yes, but he surely did not look worried, and he said 
he never felt in better health. Let me tell you.^ Lady 
Mack, there is a woman at the bottom of this. He is 
in love. He was so absent-minded he did not hear me 
sometimes till I repeated.” 

“But with whom can he be in love.?^ He has met and 
seen all the fairest women in our set, and I know he 
enjoys being with you, Ophelia, more than with any- 
one else. He has told me how handsome, distinguished 
and entertaining you are, and he told me he likes you 
for your fine common sense and good judgment.” 

“Yes, my dear,” answered Miss Ophelia, “that is all 
true, but he has never said a word about love.” 

“No, dear, but you know he is not a bit sentimental, 
and he does not go to any house where you are not.” 

“I know I amuse him. He likes to be entertained and 
amused, and I had hoped I had become so essential to 
his happiness that he could not be contented without 
me and would soon ask me to become Lady Douglas.” 

“Dear, dear, don’t be discouraged. I tell you he does 
not like anyone as he does you,” said Lady Mack. 

“I know he likes me; now he loves someone else. I 
cannot be mistaken, I know his every whim so well.” 

“Does a man look as stupid and absent-minded and 
uninteresting as Richard did this afternoon when he 
is in love ? I thought they were sparkling and bubbling 
over with mirth and happiness. I used to think these 
were the first symptoms.” 

“Mind what I tell you, he has met his fate. I must 
go order my auto. I am miserable; I must find out 
or I will lose my reason.” 


168 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Ophelia, I thought you, too, like my nephew, were 
past such sentiment. I know you understand each other 
and are staunch friends, but I thought there was no 
strong feeling on either side, and that if you ever mar- 
ried there would remain that strong and lasting friend- 
ship with perfect understanding which makes more 
happy homes than so much so-called love.” 

“I will confess to you, as you already know, that I 
love him with my whole soul,” said Miss Ophelia. “I 
worship him. No other woman shall ever be his wife if 
I can help it. I must find out who it is. I cannot work 
in the dark.” 

“Ophelia dear, be careful,” said Lady Mack, looking 
to see if her maid was out of hearing. “You are excited, 
you do not realize what you are saying.” 

“Oh, yes, I do I I am perfectly calm. I am not the 
least excited. I know what I am saying. I will not 
give him up without a struggle and a hard fight.” 

“Dear, he is the very sense of honor. He never en- 
couraged you to love him ; he only expressed friendship 
in all his attentions to you.” 

“Oh, my good true friend!” said Miss Ophelia, “you 
have already begun to take sides in this battle royal, 
for that’s what it will amount to.” 

Lady Mack laughed. “Child, you are making moun- 
tains out of molehills. You don’t even know that he 
has met anyone to fall in love with. How absurd we 
are. I am sure he would be fiattered if he could see 
how wrought up we have become at the very idea of our 
having a rival. I should feel as badly as you seem to 
feel to lose him, for if he were to marry any other than 
you I would lose my best protector, my dear nephew, 
and my close friend and adviser. So for my own selfish 
reason I should prefer to have Richard marry you. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


169 


Let’s change the subject. We are jumping at conclu- 
sions. There is the honk of your auto ; won’t you stay 
and dine here.?” 

“No, no!” answered Miss Ophelia. 

“Then come to-morrow evening,” said Lady Mack. 

“Will Richard dine here too.?” she asked. 

“No, I think he told me, when I asked him, that he 
had another engagement,” replied Lady Mack. 

“And he did not tell you with whom.? Oh, I begin 
to see.” 

“He often tells me he is dining out, and does not 
tell me where. I am not his keeper.” 

“That is all true. Still just now it looks a bit sus- 
picious, to say the least.” 

“Now, listen to you. I declare you would have made 
a good detective officer, the way you jump at conclu- 
sions.” 

Miss Ophelia kissed her friend and ran out, jumped 
into the machine like a sixteen-year-old, and was gone 
in no time. 

When Le Comte Batus Beamer told Amily at lunch- 
eon that he had just met an old friend outside, and had 
tried to prevail upon him to come in to lunch, but who, 
being in a hurry, had promised to dine with him the next 
evening instead, he said he wanted to present him to her 
with her consent. He went on to expatiate on the good 
qualities of his friend, and told of the friendship of 
so many years, when Amily said, “But you have not 
told us his name yet, has he. Captain Slogan.?” 

The captain laughed and said, “I presume he is com- 
ing to his name.” 

“He is Lord Richard Douglas, of the North Dells, a 
young bachelor, and indeed a fine gentleman,” said he. 

Was it something in the name that made her think of 


170 


oh; you ENGLISH! 


the fair, distinguished stranger she had seen yesterday? 
In fact, he had not been out of her mind long at a time 
since. While she was in her apartment sewing on that 
lace coat of old Lady North’s she thought of him, how 
he had looked at her, and how pale and pure he seemed 
to her. She had never seen a face like his. 


CHAPTER XV 


The next day Amily thought of the stranger all day, 
and when she went to dress for dinner she chose her new 
pale blue gauze gown. While she was dressing, some 
beautiful white orchids came, with Le Comte’s card 
enclosed. She selected the prettiest ones, and placed 
a bunch low at the side of her large natural coil of hair. 

The only piece of jewelry she wore was the beauti- 
ful diamond ring Charles Renselear had given her on 
her eighteenth birthday. She looked at it and thought : 
“I am eighteen only a few weeks since, this lovely ring 
reminds me; yet I feel so much older. Here I am in 
this big city without a chaperone and visiting with 
royal gentlemen. Driving and going out with counts, 
lords, and what-nots, and so innocent I have just drifted 
on, on to this. It is true I am working for my living, 
but if my good friends, the Millers, had not paid in 
advance for me here I should have been obliged to hunt 
mean and cheap quarters. Oh, doubly blessed the morn- 
ing I found that lost baby, Mary Miller, in New York. 
I have been with the circle I had hoped to gain by the 
very hardest up-hill pulls.” 

Still she smiled and said: “It is only the male line 
of that inner circle. The female side turn their red 
noses up at me and almost hold back their skirts for me 
to pass by. Why should they.? I am a little further 
removed from some wicked, bad old ancestor perhaps. 
There were a lot came over in those first boats that 
171 


m 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


found their way to America. Are we not their descend- 
ants? We are just farther removed from William the 
Conqueror, and we should be thankful the further re- 
moved we are. 

‘‘When will English society be taught the truth, that 
it is wrong to pass judgment on an American because 
she can not trace her lineage back to some licentious 
king or queen? They think she is a nobody and not 
worth cultivating unless her bank account foots up into 
the millions ; then she is courted and sought. When 
there is some impoverished house or family that has 
gone to pieces on account of the prince, duke, or count 
who has spent all in riotous living and has become a 
disgrace and burden, then they seek to marry him to 
an American nobody, she being a pure and beautiful 
girl, who has no lineage but the genealogy of all men, 
from the Bible; he was the son of Enos, who was the 
son of Seth, who was the son of Adam, who was the 
son of God. Would anyone want to go farther?” 

She sat soliloquizing thus when she was summoned 
to dinner. Three gentlemen were waiting in the parlor 
for her. She met Le Comte, and he greeted her with a 
compliment, and after a word to Captain Slogan, Lord 
Douglas was presented to her. 

She raised her eyes to meet his, but she knew it was 
he before she looked at him — she felt his very pres- 
ence. However, she controlled herself, and was very 
gracious and natural. He was confused momentarily, 
but soon was at ease and escorted her in to dinner. 

She sat next to him, with Captain Slogan on the 
other side. Le Comte was a charming host, a great 
entertainer, and he did most of the talking, as the con- 
versation was general. 

As the dinner progressed the orchestra struck into 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


173 


some familiar airs, and at last “Home, Sweet Home.” 
Amily had become silent, listening to the music and at 
the same time trying to follow the gentlemen in their 
talk of opera. She almost forgot herself, for as she 
realized that she was dining in a big public hotel with 
three gentlemen she thought of her brother Tao, and 
she knew he would be shocked to see her. 

She felt guilty, because she knew she was flying under 
false colors. She saw that she attracted no little at- 
tention. “They think I am a titled rich person,” she 
thought, “while I have been mending lace all day long. 
I know I am a prudent and innocent person, and have 
done no wrong. Fate has pushed me this far out on the 
top wave.” 

She was brought abruptly back to herself when the 
music suddenly stopped and the Comte, looking at his 
watch, said: “Miss Freelanhisen, we will wait in the 
foyer while you get your wrap ; it may be a little bit 
chilly when we get back. Melba usually has an elabo- 
rate programme.” 

Amily went to her room and readjusted the flowers 
and got a gauze veil to use as a scarf. She looked in 
the mirror and was pleased with herself. “Pleasure and 
good health are the greatest beautifiers,” she thought. 
“I am so well and happy, and to-night well dressed, in 
my new blue gown. I will say to Amily in the mirror : 
‘Yoii are really beautiful!’ I have never called myself 
beautiful; not even pretty, in the Ozarks, with the 
homely surroundings, the worries about how to get an 
education, pretty clothes, and above all to get away 
from it. Oh, my God, guide me right! I feel now 
this very moment, and have felt from the first, that I 
love this Lord Douglas. I knew I did in the pawn- 
shop. What must I do? He would never love an 


174 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


American nobody. I must run away; I must not see 
him any more, and maybe I can forget he ever crossed 
my path. When he looks into my eyes in that straight, 
fearless way he has I turn cold, then hot, by turns. I 
feel as if I was an open book and he was reading my 
life. I must go now; they are waiting for me. Some- 
times I feel so small and insignificant when he looks at 
me, and at other times I feel every inch his equal. I 
never felt like this before, with any other. I know I am 
doomed to love this aristocrat. 

“There is no escape. Maybe when I tell him, as I 
shall, that I am only a poor working girl, he will run 
away like mad.” 

When she had joined the gentlemen below they all 
looked at her and each thought how pretty she was. 
Lord Douglas thought that in all his life he had never 
seen a young girl so beautiful and high-bred looking, 
and yet so simple and unassuming. This fellow-feeling 
made him feel that she was no stranger, but was a part 
of his life, that he had known and loved her always. 
Yet he was as shy as she when he came close to her. “I 
hope I have not kept you waiting,” she said. “I stopped 
one moment and fell to dreaming, and did not realize 
you were waiting.” 

“Well, dear, your dream was a pleasant one,” Cap- 
tain Slogan said. “Your smiling face and bright eyes 
tell that.” 

“Yes, I confess they were sweet dreams. I fear I 
shall never realize them in this life.” 

“Can’t you tell us what they were.?” 

“No, Count; you might be bored.” 

“Let me be the judge of that,” he answered. 

Lord Douglas looked at her with such perfect un- 
derstanding and sympathy that the tears rose to her 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


175 


eyes. He saw, as the others did not, her slight emotion. 
He took her scarf and wrapped it about her bare neck 
and handed her in the carriage, taking his seat be- 
side her, while the two older men took the seat opposite, 
and soon were talking together of the topics of the 
day. 

Lord Douglas was talking to her in his low, musical 
voice and she was answering him as matter of factly as 
if she had been talking to Beth or Dobson. She told 
him the name of the ship she came over on, and of the 
sad experience of witnessing a burial at sea. 

Before they realized it they had stopped in front of 
the opera house, and he was lifting her out. The other 
gentlemen preceded them, and Le Comte Batus Beamer 
opened the way to his private box, placing Amily and 
Lord Douglas right in the front seats, where they had 
a full view of the house as well as the stage. 

Melba was singing, and when the curtain went down 
Le Comte was telling Amily who the occupants of the 
different boxes were. One box, second from them, was 
occupied by an elderly lady, a very young man, a youth 
in fact, and a very beautiful woman. 

Amily saw that Lord Douglas knew them. He told 
her that they were his aunt. Lady Mack, his friend. 
Miss Ophelia Orr, and her brother Chester, who was 
at home on a holiday from Oxford. Amily had never 
felt a jealous pang in her life, but now every time 
she looked up that beautiful woman had her glasses 
drawn on her, and she felt strange and uncomfortable. 
And Lord Douglas called this woman his friend. 

‘‘Dear me,” she thought, “won’t Melba ever stop.?* 
Her voice doesn’t sound so sweet now. I think I am 
tired.” 

The curtain went down on the third act, and Le 


176 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


Comte and Lord Douglas excused themselves. She was 
leftr with the dear old Captain, who was getting sleepy, 
and tried so hard to be entertaining. He told her a 
long story about Melba’s early life, which she did not 
hear except by snatches. 

She could see nor hear nothing; she was thinking of 
Douglas. As she tried to listen to the Captain, she 
glanced over at that hox, and there was Lord Douglas 
and Le Comte talking to that beautiful dark woman — 
Miss Orr, he had called her. His aunt was talking 
to Batus Beamer, and she saw Miss Orr tap Lord Doug- 
las on the shoulder in a familiar way, and it was like a 
two-edged sword in her tender heart. 

She turned from them and gave all her attention 
to the Captain. She tried to be animated and bright, 
but she felt she was making a complete failure of 
it. 

Returning, the gentlemen were in their places before 
the curtain rose. Now it was a violin solo, with a soft 
accompaniment by the orchestra. As the fair tender 
notes came, they opened like flower buds expanding, 
like mists of perfume from the flowers. Amily loved 
these flower-tone lives and partook of the unfathomable 
mysteries of the flower tones. She forgot everything 
else. Each harmony was a chorus of pure aspiration, 
as if all the great and noble deeds of time had formed 
a procession and were drawing her on. 

Suddenly it stopped, and Lord Douglas was look- 
ing at her with kindly sympathy and perfect under- 
standing. 

‘‘You love music,” he said. “Do you perform?” 

“No; I never studied music, though I love it. I 
have never had the opportunity to hear very much 
good music.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 177 

“You are so young, why do you not begin now?” he 
asked. 

“I will tell you why I do not when I know you bet- 
ter,” she said. 

When they were in the carriage she sat next him, 
as they had in coming. She could feel his breath on 
her cheek. The serene solemnity of his voice overcame 
her, and she tried to rally herself, but her throat swelled 
and stopped her words. When he held her hand in 
parting, he said: “When may I call on you. Miss 
Freelanhisen ?” 

She felt oppressed. Several things that night had 
contributed to daunt her elastic spirits. 

“I am out quite a lot about my work, and really can- 
not tell when I shall be in,” she answered ; “and besides. 
Captain Slogan is much engaged and I have no other 
chaperon at present.” 

His voice had a sadness in it when he said: “I will 
be pleased to make an engagement with Captain Slogan, 
with your consent.” 

When he had gone and she was in bed she thought 
of the sadness in his voice, and his disappointment, 
and she was sorry she had not let him call when he 
would. “Because,” she said to herself, “I am launched 
on a wave of fate. I have pushed my easy way so I 
am lying in the waters of fate, to be floated and rushed 
on. My soul is bent on success and peace; an intense 
repose penetrates my brain and I rest, knowing a merci- 
ful God is looking forth on his child.” 

The next day at lunch she was handed a cablegram, 
saying: “This party will meet you the tenth.” — Cap- 
tain Miller.” 

She read it over and handed it to Captain Slogan. 
He read it, saying: “How fortunate! they come almost 


178 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


a week before you expected them. I was about to tell 
you that I am called to Hull on the 11th, and I am so 
glad to place you with your friends before leaving.” 

That afternoon Amily went with Captain Slogan 
to the Queen’s Hall orchestra promenade concerts. 
They are given twice a week throughout the season 
when London speaks of London as empty and dull. At 
the Beethoven and Strauss festival the scene is novel 
for a stranger. The opportunities for seeing are un- 
fortunately rare. 

One admirable occasion, however, is afforded by the 
Symphony concerts given during the fall and winter 
months at the Club de la Noblesse. Here strangers 
are admitted to the final rehearsals if accompanied by 
members or cards of members. 

Amily was a lover of good music, and the chance was 
not to be missed. There she got a glimpse of London 
society. The English are lovers of good music. In- 
terest and sympathy are felt, and they forget every- 
thing else for this hour of music. The real delight of 
the English is the oratorio. Then their music becomes 
the interpreter of their religion. 

They do not seem to think much of appearance, for 
they are not dressed with taste, and are dowdy. The 
women are pictures of health, big, red and rather man- 
nish, with large feet and heavy shoes. 

With the disappearance of hair powder, patch, knee- 
buckles, lace ruffles, and plumes, a change came to the 
English. Therefore to-day they are not so picturesque 
as in years agone. 

When Amily’s head fell on her pillow that night she 
was weighed down with a great love and devout 
thoughts. She said to herself: “I will not think of 
Richard Douglas; I must not. He is my ideal, and 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


179 


I am already in love with my ideal — I have been ever 
since I have been old enough to class people and to know 
the meaning of love. I wonder if I offended him when 
I referred him to Captain Slogan when he asked to 
call on me. I may never see him again, as he is very 
proud. Maybe it will be best for me, because I cannot 
forget him.” 


CHAPTER XVI 


The Millers and most of the party from Mr. Ban- 
derwelt’s yacht came, and daily they were busy sight- 
seeing, going every night to some theatre or place of 
amusement. Banderwelt did not stop at the St. Ermius. 
He with half the party were quartered at another hotel, 
the finest place of its kind in London. 

He had invited Amily to join his party and be his 
guest. She thanked him, but with a great deal of dig- 
nity and firmness she declined. He never had a chance 
to speak to her privately, and she was particular that 
he did not have an opportunity. 

Charles Renselear was her shadow wherever they went 
night or day, being always by her side. He had in- 
sisted on stopping at the St. Ermius, and his mother 
wanted to go there too, with Captain and Mrs. Miller. 
Charles’ sisters, however, would not hear of leaving 
their host for one of their brother’s whims, as they put 
it. So the matter was compromised by letting Charles 
go with the Millers to the St. Ermius. 

Amily told the lad all she had done and all the peo- 
ple she had met. When she told him of meeting Lord 
Douglas she felt the hot blood rush to her face. Charles 
saw it and said: “Amily, you have been hobnobbing 
with the nobility.” 

She answered, in sort of an apologetic manner : 
“Charles, dear, I want you to know him; he is really 
like an American gentleman. I am sure you will bke 
180 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


181 


him, as I do. Captain Slogan has invited him to dine 
here with us to-night. As I told you. Captain Slogan 
goes to Hull to-morrow, and I am so sorry you cannot 
dine here; but am glad I can see you at the Royal 
Academy.” 

Charles laughed and said: “Now, you see how fortu- 
nate we are in knowing Miss Freelanhisen, who hobnobs 
with the illustrious, otherwise we could not enter Bur- 
lington House. I know the privileged must be royalty 
or the friend of royalty — thanks to your Lord 
Douglas.” 

“I am so glad I will have an opportunity to intro- 
duce you to him. I have talked about you to him till 
I am sure he will not seem like a stranger.” 

At dinner that night Amily was so bright and ani- 
mated that Lord Douglas thought her beautiful — she 
was so easy, self-possessed, and natural. When they 
started for the exhibition Captain Miller and his wife. 
Captain Slogan, with Le Comte, and Amily, with Lord 
Douglas, formed the party. 

There was a big crush all Wednesday and the fore- 
noon of Thursday, as on these days the great picture 
gallery of new paintings is open to the press alone, 
which gives them a day and half to estimate the Eng- 
lish art of the year. The afternoon of Thursday is 
reserved for the visit of royalty, and Friday night is 
the Royal Academy dinner, probably the most notable 
meal of the year in London. The president of the 
Academy is host, and every guest is more or less illus- 
trious in the world of politics, literature, and art. 
Royalty is always present. 

Amily and Lord Douglas kept together, and they 
were soon lost in the jam and crush from the other 
friends. Amily was in raptures. The art treasures 


182 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


she saw astonished and filled her with emotion, trans- 
ported the magic enchantment of these distant lands 
and brought her among these people that in her dreams 
she had known. They were her father’s people, and 
she began to study them as she had not done before. 

Noting her emotion. Lord Douglas said: “You are 
tired, and this crush makes you faint.” 

“No, no, I am not faint! I may appear so because 
I enjoy it so intensely,” she said. 

“Come, I see a vacant chair in front of a Turner; 
let us sit there till the most of the crowd pass.” 

They were soon so absorbed in each other that they 
did not notice the crowd. She told him something of 
herself, that her father was English, and that she ex- 
pected to go very soon to Redich, to make the ac- 
quaintance of any of her father’s people that might 
be living. 

He asked to come there to see her, but she told him 
she did not know how long she would remain there. 
Then he asked to write to her there, and she consented. 

She was sure she had a surprise for him when she 
told him that the family over here, as well as her im- 
mediate family, were impoverished, and that she had 
to work for her living; that she was doing work even 
now while she was in London. 

He was not in the least shocked, as she had expected 
he would be. Then she thought that now was the time 
to tell him all, so she told him how she had gone to 
New York from her humble home in the Ozarks of 
Arkansas, entirely against the wishes and advice of 
her brother, the representative of her family, and how 
by mere chance she had become the protegee of the 
Millers. She told him she had no claim on them further 
than a strong friendship, and that she was their guest 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


183 


while she was in London; that she had promised \o 
remain at the St. Ermius Hotel till they came; also, 
that she had come over alone because she had declined 
the invitation to come with them in the yacht of a 
friend, who also extended the invitation. 

“I am frank to say I did not like the host, conse- 
quently Captain Miller placed me in the care of dear 
old Captain Slogan, who happened to be coming over 
about that time. You know, we Americans girls are 
quite independent. I should have come alone if he 
had not been coming on that very ship. I feel I can 
take care of myself, still I might have been a little lonely 
sometimes if the dear, good old Captain had not been 
next to me in his steamer chair. I shall miss him when 
he goes to Hull, we have been together so long now, 
and he has been a father to me, so kind and thought- 
ful and considerate. I wish I could do something to 
make him happy. He lost his wife and only daughter, 
whom he says I am very much like. He has no set- 
tled home. He has been retired by our government, 
and lives a bohemian life, and in his old age is restless 
and dissatisfied. If I were the posesssor of a home I 
should want him to live with me. He is a real friend. 
False friends one meets, who offer the loving cup, then 
stab us in the back while we drink their health.” 

“My dear Miss Freelanhisen,” said Lord Douglas, 
“you are quite young to have discovered a false friend.” 

“I presume I inherit that instinct from the spirits of 
old that bore me,” she said, laughingly. 

While they were talking a party stopped in front 
of them, and she heard Mr. Plimpton saying: “Well, at 
last. Miss Freelanhisen, we have run you to cover. We 
have haunted your hotel and can never find you.” 

As he was speaking he was joined by the others 


184 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


of the party, Miss Colgate, Mr. Banderwelt, Mr. Cline, 
the Misses Renselear, Charles, and the Millers. Amily 
introduced Lord Douglas in the most graceful manner. 

While they all moved on together, Banderwelt got 
beside Amily and Miss Colgate sidled up by Lord 
Douglas, and walking by his side made herself most 
charming to him. He being a lord she could unbend 
a little. She even asked if Amily would be in when 
she wished to call at eleven in the morning. 

Amily replied that she was sorry not to be able to 
be in when it was her first call, but that she had prom- 
ised Le Comte Batus Beamer to accompany him to the 
station at that hour to see her dear friend. Captain 
Slogan, off to Hull. 

The lady slightly shrugged her graceful shoulders and 
passed on, digesting her first polite snub. She had 
never called on Amily at the Pier, and in New York 
had broadly cut and snubbed her. Now that Amily 
was visiting with royalty she was quite gracious. 

Soon they made a stop in front of a picture, and 
Banderwelt was trying to get a word private with 
her. She had pretended to be so much interested in 
the picture that she did not hear him, till now he 
said: ‘‘You read my letter on board the ship. You 
scorned it and threw it overboard; also threw over 
my flowers and gifts.” 

“You must be a clairvoyant,” she answered. “I 
did that very thing. I did not open the package.” 

“I know that, as you are not wearing a fine diamond 
on your finger.” 

“I am sorry to have thrown your property away, but 
I could not know it was of so much value.” 

“Oh, the value is no more to me than my poor flow- 
ers. I put the diamond in, thinking you, like the rest 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 185 

of your sex, would wear that if you did hate the 
giver.” 

“You do not know me. I would die before I would 
be forced to wear a diamond of yours. I might not 
have thrown your property in the sea, but I would 
have returned it to you. By not opening it, I prob- 
ably saved myself an insult. I am not talking to you 
now to save my friends a scene. In the future, you 
will please not to force yourself on me. I will not 
speak to you if I can avoid it without a scene. I dis- 
like publicity so much that I might pass a word to 
save an explanation.” 

Just as she said this Lord Douglas said: “Miss Free- 
lanhisen, I think you said you wished to go at half- 
past eleven. It is that now. Shall we go 

“Yes, indeed! I was wondering if you had for- 
gotten your promise to take me back before twelve. 
You know I am a new member of society and I must 
not begin with late hours.” She said this for Miss 
Colgate and Mr. Banderwelt. 

She took the proffered arm of Lord Douglas and 
passed on, Miss Colgate going in front with Bander- 
welt. Amily was so grateful to Lord Douglas for 
coming just at that moment, as she knew perfectly 
well that Banderwelt intended to say something to her 
that she had made up her mind not to listen to. She 
was trying to devise means to get away, and had 
thought she would call to Lord Douglas to explain a 
picture to her. 

Lord Douglas knew, by the ring of gladness and 
gratitude in her voice when she looked into his eyes, 
that he had favored her greatly. She took his arm, 
saying: “Do let’s try the side exit.” 

“We cannot get out that way,” he replied; “that 


186 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

only leads to a court. We will have to go with the 
crowd.” 

“Well, let’s fall far behind the others,” she said. 

He saw that she was a little agitated, and walked 
slowly with her hand on his arm. When they got 
outside, he said: “It is useless to try to find Captain 
Slogan or any of your friends from the St. Ermius. 
No doubt the Captain has tired of the crush and gone 
to his bed long ago, and Mrs. Miller complained of 
a headache, so I know they have gone.” 

He gave the number of his carriage to the porter 
and soon it was in front. When they were in the car- 
riage Lord Douglas told her that her friend, Mr. Ban- 
derwelt, had invited him to dinner and the Opera at 
Covent Garden. 

“I accepted solely on your account,” he said. 

“Then I am sorry, as I certainly shall not be pres- 
ent,” she answered. 

He was astonished, but was too high bred to let her 
see he was surprised. She knew he would be, and she 
explained in this manner: 

“You were mistaken just now when you called Mr. 
Banderwelt my friend. He is not my friend. I do not 
respect or like him.” 

Then Lord Douglas said: “I have asked my aunt. 
Lady Mack, and my friend, Miss Ophelia Orr, to call 
with me on all your friends, as well as yourself. We 
shall caU when it is most convenient to you. When 
shall that be.?” 

“I shall be at home about four o’clock, and will be 
glad to meet your aunt and friend,” she answered; 
“very glad indeed.” 

When they went into the foyer of the hotel Charles 
Renselear was there. He had come back with Captain 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


187 


Slogan. They sat there talking, and said they had 
waited to say good-night. 

“And besides,” said Charles, “I have a message. Mr. 
Banderwelt begs you to reconsider and join us all 
at dinner, and to the theatre. Amily, do come ; I won’t 
be happy without you.” 

“No, Charles ; I am sorry to make you unhappy, but, 
really, I cannot go.” 

“You cannot spend the evening alone,” he said. “All 
of us are going out.” 

“I need a rest, dear,” she answered. “You must re- 
member I have been going a rapid pace for a coun- 
try girl who has always dined at seven and retired 
at nine.” 

“Well, I shall not keep you up any longer now,” he 
replied. “Will see you to-morrow at the station. I 
am coming to see the Captain off to Hull, too. Think 
it over, Amily, and come with us. The party is not 
complete without you.” 

Lord Douglas asked to put the youth down at his 
hotel. They went out together, and going up in the 
elevator Amily told the Captain she would be sure 
to breakfast with him. When she got out he said: 
“Good-night, and sweet dreams to my little girl.” 

There was pathos in his voice and she thought he 
seemed sad. Next morning when she met him at break- 
fast she thought he was brighter. He told her, while 
they sat at the table, that he had been with her till 
he was spoiled, and that he should miss her, and think 
of his own little girl more than ever. 

She told him she would write to him so often that 
she would not let him be lonely. She was dressed 
for going out, in her gray suit she had worn to New 
York from Arkansas. It fitted her figure and it was 


188 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


well brushed. Her gloves were good and matched 
her old gray suit. The fog was dense and she felt 
she could not afford to put on her best suit, even if 
she was to go with a lord. 

When they had gone in to the foyer they only waited 
a few moments when Lord Douglas and Charles came 
in. After greeting her, Charles said: “We had to 
have the chauffeur drive quite slowly, the fog is so 
thick. I think I could slice it with my knife.” 

“Yes, I think we will start, Captain Slogan, if you 
are ready.” 

“Very well. I sent all my luggage this morning.” 

Amily took the old man by the arm and insisted 
on sitting by him in the auto. Lord Douglas saw 
through the shifting shows of things to the abiding 
realities. He knew Amily was sorry for the old Cap- 
tain, and was being extra nice to him so that he would 
not feel sad to part from her. She was very gay, 
and when they drove up to the station Captain Miller, 
Mr. Banderwelt, with Miss Colgate, and Le Comte 
Batus Beamer were there waiting to see the Captain 
off. They were gay, too. 

They had not long to wait till his train bore him 
away. Amily had never left him, and when he had 
bade all the others good-by he took Amily’s hand and 
she kissed him just as unembarrassed as she would have 
kissed her father or brother. Tears came to the Cap- 
tain’s eyes. 

Lord Douglas gripped the Captain’s hand and told 
him he really must get back to his house party that 
he was giving to his new American friends at his 
chateau. 

“You must come back,” urged Amily. “If you do 
not, I cannot go without my dear protector.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


189 


He promised he would come if he possibly could 
arrange to do so. The Captain was retired from the 
service by the government with half pay, and when 
occasionally they sent him to execute a little matter 
he was very conscientious and let nothing stand in the 
way of its accomplishment. 

When they started back Banderwelt asked Lord 
Douglas to join him and his party that were on their 
way to the Wallace Gallery. There was a new and 
beautiful picture there by an American painter that 
he wished to show him. “Miss Freelanhisen is fond 
of American art and I dare say will enjoy seeing it, 
too,” he added. 

Amily looked at Lord Douglas and said: “Don’t let 
me deprive you of the pleasure of seeing the picture. 
I do not care about seeing it to-day. I have some 
lace that I have mended that I promised to deliver 
this morning, and I can call a taxi-cab and be there 
in a few moments.” 

“Mr. Banderwelt,” Lord Douglas then said, “it is 
kind of you, I am sure, but if you will excuse me I will 
prefer to drive Miss Freelanhisen to the place she 
wishes to go.” 

Now Charles spoke up. “I want to see that lace 
Bazaar that Amily frequents,” said he. 

“Oh, Charles, you really are too funny! There is 
nothing to see, only a queer old man who criticises my 
work very hard and begrudgingly pays me the agreed 
price. It is amusing to see him try to find a fault that 
he may pay me less for my work.” 


CHAPTER XVII 


Charles was scolding Amily for refusing to go with 
them on their auto trip through England and Scot- 
land. He told her of the beauty of the Rob Roy coun- 
try, the Trossacks, and the home of Sir Walter Scott, 
and so many more interesting things too numerous to 
mention. 

She told him that she was sorry to miss so much, 
but that she was going to Redich while they were gone. 
She then asked whether they intended to come back 
to London, or meet the yacht at some other place. 
Lord Douglas said they would be back, as they had 
all accepted his invitation to some shooting at his 
chateau in the French chateau district the latter part 
of the following month. 

“That will be great, and I will not miss the pleas- 
ure of my first shooting,” said Charles ; “that is, on 
a gentleman’s private preserves. Amily, you must 
come, too, or we will all be so disappointed. The 
Millers, your friends, will chaperon you. I heard you 
tell Captain Slogan you would not go unless he came 
back to go with you.” 

“Yes,” said Amily; “I did it to induce the old dear 
to come back. I am sure he will come, because he 
would be so conscience-stricken if he thought he had 
deprived me of this great pleasure.” 

Then Lord Douglas said: “Miss Freelanhisen could 
not refuse to come; it would not be etiquette, as I 
am giving this house party in her honor.” 

190 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 191 

“I can assure you I feel highly honored,” she 
answered. 

The day that Lord Douglas was to bring his aunt 
and friend to call Amily rested, bathed, and dressed 
herself in a white muslin dress. The dress was simple, 
— nothing could have been plainer, — yet it was a sim- 
plicity not to be had for the asking, really a Parisian 
simplicity. She wore no ornament, only a rose at 
her throat and the beautiful pure white diamond on 
her slender finger. 

The ring never left her hand, for she had prom- 
ised Charles to wear it always. She had only a mo- 
ment to compose herself before a page came to tell 
her that her expected visitors were waiting in the pri- 
vate parlor to see her. When she entered. Lord Doug- 
las rose to meet her, introducing his aunt. Lady Mack, 
and Miss Orr. 

The elderly lady, quietly dressed in gray silk, took 
Amily ’s proffered hand, saying she was delighted to 
meet her. The younger woman was condescendingly 
gracious, proud, and cold. Amily was sweet, natural, 
courteous, her never failing dignity and genial good- 
nature amounting to distinction. 

Lady Mack thought she had never in years met a 
more charming young person. The conversation be- 
came general and, on leaving. Lady Mack told Amily 
how pleased she was that she would meet her at Dead 
Lock Chateau the later part of the month. Miss Orr 
was very quiet, having very little to say, but scrutiniz- 
ing Amily very rigidly, and barely bowing at parting. 

Lady Mack made Amily promise to come to luncheon 
with her on the following Monday. “You know, dear,” 
she said, “Monday is called ‘blue Monday’ by some, 
and I fear a blue Monday so much that I have my 


19 ^ 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


nephew and other of my young friends with me at 
luncheon on every Monday. Ophelia drops in any 
time it suits her, like one of the family,” with a sort 
of smirk at Miss Orr and a wink at Lord Douglas, 
who took no notice of it. 

They said they had called on Mr. Banderwelt and 
his guests, and had found Mr. Banderwelt delightful; 
also Miss Colgate pleased Miss Orr exceedingly. To 
herself Amily was saying: “Oh, the vulgar rich are too 
dull and stupid for me! They have no appreciation 
of character ; they have no standard by which to gauge 
anything except the standard of the bank note, which 
they apply to everything.” 

When Mr. Banderwelt and his party were all 
equipped for their journey they came by to bid Amily 
good-by, though some of the party did not get out 
of the autos. The Millers told her how sorry they 
were that she would not accept Mr. Banderwelt’s in- 
vitation or theirs, and Charles told her that his trip 
was already spoiled without her. 

They had gotten back in their places when Mr. Ban- 
derwelt came close to Amily and in an undertone said: 
“I see why you even refuse your good friends, the 
Millers’, invitation, to say nothing of mine. You can 
ill afford to leave your game when you have it about 
bagged. You, like the rest of our American girls, are 
angling for a royal crown. Don’t you know he thinks 
you are a millionairess — you are living like the rich. 
He only wants money. I warn you, don’t be deceived.” 

“How dare you talk to me when I have forbidden 
you!” she said. 

He had turned and was in his fine machine ere she 
could finish her speech. She went back to her room 
to read some letters from home. One she read over 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 193 

and over again. It was from her sister-in-law, Jane. 
She read these lines : 

“Amily Dear : 

“I cannot advise you. Of course I want to see you, 
but I cannot blame you, and I know you will always 
do right. You have been so fortunate, falling in with 
the right people, and I love those good, kind Millers 
for what they have done for you. Amily, I am sorry 
that millionaire persecutes you so. My child, you know 
I am not mercenary, but why don’t you try to like 
him and forgive all his shortcomings.'’ You know 
money is a power, and if you have plenty of that it 
is the key that unlocks all else to one. 

“Dear Amily, you know I married for love solely, 
and I am no happier than some I know who married 
for money absolutely. I don’t feel competent to advise 
you. Maybe it is best to follow your own inclinations ; 
you have not erred. You tell me you are impelled to 
go on.” 

Amily finished reading the letter and thought to her- 
self : “I cannot understand Jane. She knows me well 
enough to know that I could never marry a man I 
could not respect, and I have told her what I think 
of Banderwelt. While she does not advise me to marry 
him for his money, she tries to show me that money 
sometimes makes more happiness than real love. I 
shall have to love and respect the man I marry. Still 
my poor mother loved my father with all her pure 
heart, and left family, friends, money, and everything 
to follow him about. Still she was not happy. She 
longed for money to raise and educate her children. 
It was the lack of money, after all.” 


194 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

She tore up Jane’s letter and sat down to finish the 
last piece of lace she had on hand to mend. She had 
made up her mind to go to Redich on the following 
Tuesday, this being the last of the week. She busied 
herself packing and finishing her work to take back 
that afternoon. 

Just before luncheon a messenger came with a note 
and was to wait for an answer. She saw the crest 
on the envelope and knew it was from Lord Douglas. 
Her heart gave a jump and she realized how delighted 
even this note made her. She thought of what Ban- 
derwelt hissed into her ears as he leaped into his auto. 
She knew it was a lie, that he was judging Lord Doug- 
las by his own narrow standard. 

She knew that he knew she mended lace for money. 
‘T will not think one evil thought of him,” she mused. 
‘‘In the human soul there is seldom any real perplex- 
ity; only the body reasons, the soul knows.” 

She opened his note, which was formal and correct. 
He wished to call and take her to a prom, concert. 
That evening she wrote him that she would gladly go 
with him, as she missed Charles and the Millers very 
much. She gave the answer to the page and went to 
her mending again, and in a short while she had fin- 
ished it. 

She put on her plain, old gray suit, hat, and veil and 
went to deliver her work. After the shopkeeper had, 
for the first time, praised her work and paid her the 
equivalent seven dollars for it, he was looking in the 
drawer for another piece to give her, when she told 
him she could not do it unless he let her take it to the 
country with her; and if he was in a hurry for it she 
could not promise it for any special time. 

“You can trust me with it,” she said. “I go to 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


195 


Redich for a few days, or perhaps months ; if I remain 
I will finish it and send it back.” 

He looked into her face and said “I trust you fully, 
but I don’t understand. You look and dress like a 
lady born, and sometimes you come in a fine auto with 
a gay party of gentlemen and ladies, and yet you take 
work to do, and do it well, too.” 

“I am poor, sir,” she answered. “I am fortunate 
in having some rich friends, but that need not concern 
you so long as I do your work well.” 

“Yes, miss, you are quite right. I beg your par- 
don.” He gave her the lace, a ball dress which had 
been torn in the dance evidently. She told him she 
could not promise to bring or send it for a month. 

He said he had told his customer he might have to 
send it to Paris, and it would take some time to get 
it done, and that the lady only wanted it for the holi- 
day dances. He promised to pay her eighty shillings 
if she did it like her other work. She took it, promis- 
ing to be as dispatch about it as she could. 

When she got back to the hotel she met Le Comte 
Batus Beamer, who told her he had been out of the 
city and was going again to-morrow. He was sorry 
not to have stayed in London as long as her friends 
had stayed, but said he would see them again, as he 
had accepted an invitation from Lord Douglas for a 
fortnight’s shooting at his chateau in October. 

“He tells me it is in your honor,” said Le Comte. 

“He is very good indeed,” answered Amily. “I am 
leaving the city to-morrow for a while. I go to 
Redich.” 

“Then our trains leave nearly the same time,” he 
said. “May I call for you.?” 

She told him she would be charmed. Then they had 


196 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


dinner together. The next morning Amily was up 
early. She had already done her packing, and went 
to the clerk and wanted to pay her bill. 

He told her that before Captain Miller had gone he 
had paid for her apartment for two months more in 
advance. 

She answered: “Very well, I will leave some things 
in my room.” She hoped to be back shortly and would 
meet the Millers when they returned from Scotland. 

When the Comte called for her she was all equipped 
with hat and gloves, and wearing her old gray suit. 
She was quite natty, with her bright color, laughing 
eyes, and never-failing good-humor. Le Comte was 
very fond of Amily and now began teasing her about 
Lord Douglas. 

Amily had bidden Lord Douglas good-by the pre- 
vious night and he had said he would write to her the 
next day. Just before her train left an auto drove 
up and Lord Douglas jumped out. He said he had 
hurried with all his might, he was so afraid he would 
miss her. He had a box of sweets and flowers. He 
told her, while Le Comte was looking after her lug- 
gage, that he was so disappointed in not getting word 
privately with her at his aunt’s luncheon, that his aunt 
had asked him to take Ophelia home with them. “You 
know how she did all the talking, you were so silent. 
I was, too, because I could not talk to you alone. 
Won’t you let me come to Redich.?” 

“I cannot tell you,” she said. “Wait till I answer 
your letter and then I will know.” 

Le Comte came back, and as his train was nearly 
ready to leave he had to take a hurried departure. 
After he had left them Lord Douglas placed Amily 
in her compartment and sat by her till the train was 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 197 

moving, then he said good-by and, taking her hand, 
raised it to his lips as if she had been a queen. 

She dared not look at him as he jumped from the 
slowly moving train. She saw him getting into his 
machine and she waved to him. He lifted his hat and 
stood with it in his hand till a curve in the track hid 
him from her sight. She thought of him as he looked 
standing there, and said : “He is a nobleman by nature 
as well as by birth, and I am dreaming when I imagine 
he could care for me, a plain, and I might say, unedu- 
cated girl, who works for her living and associates 
with the American rich and accepts their hospitality. 
Still, I am not deceiving him. I have told him every- 
thing about myself, yet he does not run away, as I 
thought he might when I first told him. 

“I really expected it might be the last of our friend- 
ship when, at his aunt’s luncheon, Miss Orr wanted me 
to see how learned she was, and, going over her fa- 
vorite American writers, mentioned Mark Twain and 
Jack London; and then, referring to Kipling, was 
shocked when I said that I did not care for him, par- 
ticularly since he referred to woman as a bone and hank 
of hair. Later when she asked me what I thought of 
London, I said I was well pleased with what I had seen 
of it, but that I had been so busy mending torn lace 
for a lace shop that most of my time had been taken 
up in that occupation.” 

Amily was so busy with her thoughts that she did 
not realize how far she had ridden till a porter came 
and, unlocking her door, said : “Miss, five miles and you 
are at Redich, the needle factories. That is your stop. 
Is this little bag all your hand luggage .f’” 

“Yes,” she answered. Arrived at Redich she asked 
the porter the best hotel in the place, and he told her 


198 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

there was only one; the rest were only cheap houses 
and ale shops. 

She thanked him, giving him a shilling as a tip. He 
helped her to the platform, giving her the little satchel. 
There was scarcely anyone at the station except a 
few loafers, and she was the only passenger that 
stopped there, with the exception of some rough- 
looking workmen. 

She went into the booking station, as it is termed, 
and asked the agent how she could get to the hotel. 
He said it is not far for a man to walk, but a dainty 
miss should ride, he guessed. He whistled between his 
two fingers, and when a lazy-looking lout came with 
a lash in his hand he said: “Bunks, don’t you want a 
fare?” 

“Sure,” was the answer. 

Then he said: “The loidy wants to go to the Mug 
and Bottle.” 

She supposed that was the hotel, but she said, “The 
what?” and he repeated, saying, “That’s Bogg’s Inn.” 

When they had driven four or five blocks they came 
to the hotel, or the Mug and Bottle. There was a 
swinging sign over the door, a mug and big bottle 
on it. 

She paid the fare and went in. There was a big slat- 
ternly woman, with elbows akimbo, and Amily asked 
for a room. The woman took her to show her one 
on the second floor, overlooking the great needle fac- 
tories, and said: “Miss, the smoke never does come 
in the windows. You can make yourself very com- 
fortable here, and I only charges you ten shillings a 
day for this one ; the others on the other side is more.” 

Amily tried the door to see if the lock was all right, 
and told the woman that she would take this one. The 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


199 


woman, Mrs. Boggs by name, opened the windows, drew 
the shades, and then coming in front of Amily said: 
“Will you have your dinner private or downstairs? 
What hour, and will you give me your order now? 
I only charges a shilling extra to serve you private, 
only one shilling.” 

“Very well,” answered Amily, “I will be served at 
six privately. Can you tell me how far it is from 
here to Freelanhisen Hall, and how can one get there?” 

“Yes, miss ; it is about two and a half miles, and 
I can tell you it is a bad, rough road, too. Old Jenks 
comes in town about once in a fortnight. The old Lady 
Free, as we calls her, is getting old now, and they do 
say she is laid up a lot with the rheumatiz in her 
j’ints.” 

“Who lives with Lady Freelanhisen ?” 

“Jist the same old servants, Jenks and his wife Liz, 
and Miss Cross. She is the maid, but she is gitting 
along, too. She ain’t much younger than Lady Free, 
and Jenks says she’s got the right name; she is as 
cross as a cat and bosses around like she was the 
owner of the HaU. I guess old Lady Free puts up 
with her ’cause she can’t git anybody else to go live 
in that old haunted HaU.” 

“You don’t mean to say the Hall is haunted?” said 
Amily. 

“Well, some people say so, since Theodore ran away; 
and no one knows what became of his mother. She is 
not buried at Bowlie church, where all the family sleep. 
No one ever heard of her death. Some say she ran 
away and followed her Theodore to the new country 
over the sea.” 

Amily knew Mrs. Boggs was talking about her fa- 
ther and grandmother. The woman went on: “Wliy 


200 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


do you go there? They are too poor now to see visit- 
ors, and they never entertain people in the HaU.” 

Amily did not tell her why she was going or how long 
she would stay. Two miles and a half was only a 
short walk for a young person in good health. She 
asked if she could get some small boy to walk to the 
gates of the Hall with her. 

The woman stood for a moment and said: “I don’t 
know a boy. They are all at work in the needle fac- 
tory, and them that’s not go to school. I know a gal 
you might get to show you the way, if you paid her.” 

“Of course I shall pay her. I want to start very 
soon. How can I find the girl?” 

“She works in the ale house across the way,” the 
woman said. 

“Can she leave her work?” 

“She can, if you make it worth her while. Her fa- 
ther and mother both tend the bar when they are 
sober enough, and I don’t think there’s many about 
now.” 

“I should not like to go in a drinking place,” said 
Amily. 

“To be sure, it’s a public house,” the woman an- 
swered, “but you don’t need to be afraid. Ladies goes 
with their ’usbands to chat and have a drop after the 
factory shuts down. I goes myself with Boggs on 
Saturday.” 

“I see it is respectable. Could you go over with 
me and call the girl out?” 

“I will. I can keep an eye on the Mug and Bottle.” 

They called at the place, Amily standing outside 
while the woman went within. Pretty soon she came 
back with the person, a tall, pale, sad-looking indi- 
vidual, who drawled and dropped her H’s. She asked 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


201 

what Amily would pay, and she was told more than 
she expected to have asked. Amily, not knowing what 
was right, wished to be liberal and paid her about 
what she would have paid a person in her own coun- 
try for a like service. 

She said she would be ready as soon as she got 
a bonnet. Amily said she would wait for her over at 
the hotel, as she wished to get her umbrella and her 
little hand-bag. She told Mrs. Boggs that she would 
give up the room, but would pay for the day anyway. 

The woman said: ‘‘I ’ates to take your money when 
ye ain’t used the bed nor mussed it.” 

“That’s all right, Mrs. Boggs. I may return to- 
night or to-morrow.” 

“Now, you do seem uncertain,” said Mrs. Boggs. 
“Maybe you’re some kin of the maid. Miss Cross, and 
ben’t sure of your welcome.” 

Amily only laughed and would not be picked. Mrs. 
Boggs went on: “You looks different from Miss Cross. 
I thought you might be far-off kin, maybe so.” 

Amily was saved having to reply by the girl com- 
ing. She said that some of the road was through 
rocks, so she had taken a little time to put on her 
stiff boots. Mrs. Boggs went with them to the corner 
of the block, hoping she could find out something about 
the object of that visit. 

When she turned back, she said: “I ’opes you will 
be let in. There’s some that ’ad to come back with- 
out seeing the inside, sure.” 

Amily and her guide went down the narrow street 
towards the factories, though the heavy black coal 
smoke was nearly choking. 

“I brought you this way ’cause it is the shortest 
way, back of the factory,” said the girl. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


They had not gone more than half a mile when they 
came out into a wood. The girl informed Amily that 
this was part of the estate, but it had been claimed 
by the Crown. This beautiful wood looked as if it 
had been a park, and it ran right up to the gate that 
inclosed the large grounds, grown up in undergrowth, 
a perfect jungle in places. 

They crossed a little brook — in America it would be 
termed a creek — and then came up the hill on the 
other side. The girl pointed to the old Hall on the 
opposite hill. Not a sound but the singing of birds 
and the murmur of that little clear brook broke the 
quietude of the place. It seemed already to lull Amily 
to repose. 

The uniform tranquillity was broken by their foot- 
falls and the sound of the woodpecker tapping on a 
large old chestnut tree. Amily thought: ‘‘How could 
they call this lovely old place haunted.?” 

By the time they were even with the gate Amily 
paid the girl, thanking her, and telling her how she 
enjoyed the walk, one of the prettiest she had ever 
taken. She went up to the big gate and tried the latch. 
Being unused, it was rusty and would not open. She 
worked it till it finally yielded, swinging back with 
a loud screech, which echoed through the Hall and 
brought old Jenks to the front. 

He saw the young woman coming and went down the 
202 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


ws 

steps to meet her. She asked to see Lady Freelanhisen. 

“My Lady does not see visitors unless she expects 
them,” he said. 

Amily kept walking with Jenks till they got to the 
front steps, which she began to mount. She took a 
card out of her little bag and gave it to him, saying: 
“Give this to Lady Freelanhisen, and I feel she will see 
me.” 

Jenks invited her in, seating her in a long reception- 
room hung with a great many very old pictures. She 
amused herself looking at them, and was wondering 
which, if any, was her grandmother or father. She 
stood before one a long time, thinking it was just 
like her brother Tao, when hearing the rustle of a 
dress she looked around expecting to see her Lady- 
ship. 

Instead, she met the sour visage of an old woman 
with a limp and a hump, jaws heavy to brutality, 
the cheek bones high, nose that of a vulture, and an 
emaciated pallor. She looked Amily over from head 
to foot without a word of greeting. 

“May I see Lady Freelanhisen .P” Amily asked. “Did 
the man give her my card?” 

“Yes, he did,” was the answer, “which he had no 
business to do without consulting me first. He takes 
too much upon himself entirely.” 

“May I see Lady Freelanhisen?” asked Amily again. 

“Well, yes, she will see you, as you have her name 
on your card. Otherwise, I don’t think you would 
have gotten to see her.” 

“I am very glad, then, as I am anxious to see her,” 
said Amily. 

She followed the maid up the broad, beautiful stair- 
way, with carpet and bright brass rods. She was ush- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


W4i 

ered into a bright, pretty old room with mahogany 
furniture upholstered in red. The maid pushed a chair 
toward her and disappeared. 

Amily waited a while, then hearing the rustle of silk 
she saw a venerable gentlewoman of kindly face ad- 
vancing with that short and graceful step of courtesy, 
that gentle low voice, and the frank extending of 
the hand which has somehow passed out of parlor 
greeting. It was, however, something of the grace of 
the old-school grande dame. 

Her white hair was done in natural puffs, high on 
her head. She wore a close-fitting, shiny black-silk 
frock, with some fine old Swiss embroidered flat collar. 
Perhaps what appealed to Amily most was her great 
dignity, her gentle effort to please. 

“I am so pleased to meet one of my name,” she said. 
“There are so few of us left.” 

Amily felt at her ease with this woman, and told 
her why she had come — to find out something of her 
father’s family. She told Lady Freelanhisen she had 
her credentials, and drew from her bag a picture of her 
father taken soon after he left England, and gave it 
to her Ladyship. Taking it and looking at it, she said : 
“Yes, this is a perfect picture of my cousin Theodore 
as I last saw him. I was always very fond of my 
cousins, and I married my first cousin. Yard Free- 
lanhisen. My dear, do you know that you are Lady 
Freelanhisen instead of myself? It is an empty title, 
though. All the lands and property were confiscated, 
except one hundred acres with the old Hall. The es- 
tate has become so impoverished that all the servants 
sought other homes except old Jenks and Liz, who 
have always, as their father and mother before them, 
been on the estate, and they said they were too old 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


S05 

to find new homes. My maid, I think, was so unfortu- 
nate as to be repulsive to people and could not find 
a place, and came back to me to live till she dies, so 
she says. Her appearance and manner are very much 
against her, and she is getting old, too, but I don’t 
see how I could have lived here so long without her. 
Really, she has a kind heart and is very loyal to me 
and my interests.” 

They talked on till Miss Cross came to ask if Lady 
Free — as she called her — would have lunch served. 

“Yes ; in my boudoir. Cross,” she answered. “I will 
lunch alone with my cousin. Lady Amily.” 

Cross coughed, cleared her throat, and left the room. 
Amily told Lady Freelanhisen all about herself, how 
she had to work for a living because she would not 
be dependent on her brother Tao, of the little home 
they had in the Ozarks which she wanted Beth to have. 
She told about her rich friends and even how a multi- 
millionaire had professed love and marriage to her; 
how she abhorred him because she did not consider 
him a gentleman. 

The old lady listened till she finished, then she drew 
Amily to her side and kissed her, saying: “You are a 
true Freelanhisen.” 

While they were at lunch she told Cross to send 
Jenks to her. When the old man came with his cap 
in his hand, bowing, she said to him: “Jenks, hitch the 
beast to the barouche and go to the Mug and Bottle 
Inn and bring out some things Mrs. Boggs will give 
you.” Then handing him a check, said: 

“Please call at the booking station and fetch out Lady 
Amily’s trunk.” 

This business dispatched, Amily and her Ladyship 
again fell to a discussion of the House of Freelanhisn. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


206 

Her Ladyship begging Amily to promise to say at the 
Hall as long as she remained in England. 

“You are too good,” said Amily, “but I feel so 
happy here. This seems more like home to me already 
than any place since my dear mother died.” 

“Oh, Amily dear! has the good God sent you as a 
blessing in my old age.? No, oh, no! that is too good. 
I dare not hope that I could make you contented and 
happy in this old Hall, and I am so poor I have only 
this home. My poor old father, wanting to make this 
village prosperous and give work to these people about 
the estate, augmented and worked till he got this needle 
factory to come here and locate, he giving the ground 
and taking some stock in the concern, just a little, 
to encourage them to come. Now, the income from 
that little stock is all I have in the world to live on 
and keep up the old Hall and take care of these old 
people. It must have been a good angel who induced 
my dear father to put the little money he could ill 
afford at that time in this factory, which was small 
then, now grown to the largest in the world, where 
needles exclusively are made. I used to entertain and 
was extravagant, and had to sell some of my stock 
to pay my debts, consequently my income is small. 
Jenks sells some of the fruits and things from the place 
and realizes a little that way, which pays for our coal 
in winter and helps quite a little. Amily dear, won’t 
you live here with me? I cannot offer much, but I 
can give you a home, such as it is.” 

Amily only kissed her and said: ‘“Wait till you know 
me better.” 

They sat and talked late into the night. Lady Free 
— as they called her^ — had ordered a room to be put 
in order for Amily across the hall from her own, a 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


m 

clean, bright, cheerful room, and when she had bade 
her good-night Amily tried the door to see that it 
locked and then took a general survey of things. The 
most exquisite of all luxuries was to creep between cool, 
clean sheets on a curtained bed, and then find it impos- 
sible to sleep on account of the delicious novelty of 
the sensation of being in her father’s home. 

She lay awake till a storm came up. The wind blew 
the rickety shutters, the old Hall shook, and the win- 
dows were flapping and banging, the rain fell heavily, 
and she heard the dripping and pouring of the water. 
The air was slightly sulphurous. 

Presently merging into a drowsy mood that was 
wholly rapturous and heavenly she dropped to sleep. 
In the morning she was awakened about ten o’clock. 
The sun was shining over the distant mountain and 
shone full in her face. From the window she saw the 
exquisite scene of the beautiful valley, freshened by 
the night’s thunder storm, now wonderfully bright 
and clear — would to Heaven I could describe that scene 
as she saw and felt it — the spaces of clear blue sky, 
stretches of quiet lawn, and an azure miniature lake, 
now unruffled by wind and rain. These seemed to be a 
halo over this spot. 

Her father’s childhood had been spent here. A rap 
came on the door, and as she opened it Miss Cross stood 
with a pitcher of hot water, saying : “I came to help you 
bathe and dress.” 

She showed no surprise when she saw Amily already 
dressed, and Amily said: “Thank you; I am used to 
dressing myself and do not require help.” 

“Lady Free will meet you at breakfast when you are 
ready,” said Miss Cross. 

Amily looked in the mirror at herself, to see if she 


208 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


were all right. With her snowy white waist and a knot 
of pale blue ribbon at her throat she looked fresh and 
young. She tripped down the stairs and out on the 
big front piazza, and pulling some morning glories that 
hung over the railing fastened some at her belt and 
neck. 

She walked back and forth, admiring the old place. 
A small but beautiful marble fountain cast up a jet 
of cold water. The floor was a mosaic, the basin lined 
with brilliantly colored tiles. The old house with its 
hanging balconies, which she found so quaint and pleas- 
ing, was a plain square building with a large dome 
and two minarets, standing in the center of the hun- 
dred acres. There was a sort of porter’s lodge at the 
entrance. “If I could know the tragedies and comedies 
that have been enacted here,” Amily thought, “I could 
solve the mystery that hangs about it all. Strange 
my father never described this lovely old home, never 
showed any affection for it. He said he left home, and 
his father told him never to return. He never men- 
tioned his mother. He told me never to come here. He 
said he gave me the brass box with his credentials in it 
just that I might know that I was a lady born. It is 
strange, to say the very least.” 

Amily heard Lady Free coming down the stairs and 
ran to meet her. 

“My dear, how fresh and childlike you look I It does 
my old heart good to have a young, bright, beautiful 
child with me. It puts new life into my withered soul, 
and to know that you are my own fresh and blood is 
almost like my own child coming back to me from the 
grave. Some time I will tell you about her. How did 
you sleep last night.? Did the storm frighten you.?” 

“No, I was not alarmed. I listened to the thunder 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! W9 

and the pour of the rain and did not sleep at first,” 
said Amily. 

“I told Cross to go to you, I was so much afraid 
that you might be alarmed. But she said she would 
only disturb you; that you were young and tired and 
had probably fallen asleep before the storm came up; 
that youth sleeps hard and deep.” 

Lady Free took her seat, motioning Amily to one 
by her. Cross sat opposite. She tapped a little silver 
bell and Liz came in with buttered toast, broiled quail, 
and light-brown potatoes. Amily thought she never 
saw a prettier picture than Lady Free with her old- 
fashioned morning gown, her pure-white, little lace 
breakfast cap on her snowy hair, and her florid com- 
plexion. Miss Cross wore a maid’s gown, all black 
with white-linen flat collar and apron. 

“Cross, is not Lady Amily as fresh as the morning 
after the shower last night said Lady Free. 

Cross wrinkled her brow and replied: “Young folks 
are always fresh. Why shouldn’t they be?” 

Lady Free poured the clear coffee in a dainty Dres- 
den cup and Liz passed it to Amily. 

“Cousin Mary, I do not drink coffee,” said Amily, 
and Lady Free told Liz to bring some fresh milk for 
Lady Amily. 

Lady Freelanhisen had explained to her servants that 
Amily was Lord Theodore’s daughter from America. 
Jenks and Liz remembered Theodore, though Miss 
Cross had come with Lady Mary and her husband after 
the death of Theodore’s father, and did not remember 
when Theodore went to America. 

After breakfast Lady Free took Amily by the arm 
and they walked to the little seat near the fountain 
and sat talking. She had told Amily that she must 


210 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


not call her Lady Free, as the servants did, but that 
she was Cousin Mary to her. 

“Dear,” she said, “I have managed to live on a 
somewhat higher plane than my neighbors. Maybe I 
have lived too much to myself. Some unselfish, loving, 
gentle-mannered people live near, whom I have always 
received — I mean those who were my true friends and 
contemporaries, whose love for me is engraved deep 
within their consciousness. Others I recall who came 
with curiosity and false sympathy. They soon saw 
I did not care for their sympathy and they dropped 
off. I fear you will find the old Hall dull and lonely. 
I shall give a tea and introduce you to my friends 
and neighbors ; those I consider worth while. They 
are precious few; in fact, scarcely any as young as 
yourself.” 

“Wait, dear Cousin Mary,” said Amily. “I have a 
lot to tell you yet. I cannot be dependent on you, un- 
less you let me work here on my lace as I do in London 
or New York. I know you now, and I am not afraid 
to mention my working here. I know you are no snob 
and have no false pride.” 

Lady Freelanhisen laughed and her eyes twinkled. 
She had wonderful eyes, that would light up when she 
was aroused like a flame suddenly kindled, then a smile 
would suddenly spread over her usually grave face. 

“Amily, only stay with me. I know that is asking 
a great deal of you, but now I know and love you so, 
it would go hard to have to part with you. You could 
have your friends come to you, — I mean in an unpre- 
tentious way, — and I would be so pleased to entertain 
them the best I could. I have lived here alone with 
my servants in a world of the past, in a world idealized 
by my fancy and imagination, my mind haunted with 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


211 


the splendors of times that are gone, with the great- 
ness of that which once was, and even yet casts its 
shadows again. Amily, did the people in the village 
tell you the Hall was haunted?” 

“They did say something like that,” said Amily; “to 
which I paid no attention.” 

“Dear, I will tell you soon, when you are more at 
home and have gone over the estate. There is a skele- 
ton in our closet, too ; it is a harmless one, however.” 

She told Amily to come sit with her in her boudoir. 

“I will get my lace to sew on, if you don’t mind. 
I promised to do a ball gown that is badly torn and 
send it back to the shop in London within a month, and 
I must begin on it.” 

“Yes, dear, make yourself at home. Do what your 
inclination directs.” 

Amily ran away to her room to get her work. When 
she came back she took a seat by Lady Freelanhisen 
by an open casement window, and Lady Free said: “I 
have told Jenks to put the cob to the barouche. I 
want to take you to Bowlie church, where all the Free- 
lanhisens are buried. It will be a nice drive, as it is 
so fine outside.” 

“Yes, I shall enjoy it so much,” answered Amily. 

While they were talking Jenks came in with the 
mail, one of the people on the estate having brought 
it from Redich. Looking over it, Lady Free said: 
“Here is a letter for you addressed in my care, and 
with a coronet. That must be from your friend you 
told me about, Le Comte Batus Beamer. I used to 
know some of his family years ago, who visited in 
London.” 

Amily took the letter with a blush, saying: “No, it 
is from Lord Douglas of London. I spoke casually 




OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


of him, waiting to tell you more when you knew me 
better. Cousin, I like him very much.” She had grown 
very serious. “I believe he likes me, too. I wish you 
could know him, he is so grand and noble, large-hearted, 
chivalrous and patient, with an honest, open expres- 
sion like an innocent child, and so free from taint of 
hypocrisy. I am sure you will be fond of him, too.” 

“I shall be charmed to know him, dear, when it suits 
your pleasure to introduce him.” 

As Jenks had announced while delivering the mail 
that the barouche was ready, Amily put the letter in 
her bosom, to read alone behind a locked door. Her 
heart was palpitating now till it felt like a hammer 
pounding her side. She and Lady Free now arose to 
take the carriage. As they rode along Amily tried to 
be interested in everything, and when they came to 
Bowlie church they drove the cob in the shade of a 
big tree. Amily started to hitch him, when her cousin 
said he would stand without hitching, as Jenks never 
hitched him. She patted his head and smoothed his 
mane. 

They went into the church, and there against the 
sides and above the altar were tombs of the Freelan- 
hisens for many generations back. Some had figures 
larger than life carved on the top, the perfect statures 
of the Freelanhisens in life. 

“Amily, I am sorry we are too poor to bring your 
father here and lay him with his own people. This 
is your grandfather’s sarcophagus, and this is the 
place for his wife, your grandmother.” 

“ ‘For,’ did you say? Where is she buried if not 
in her place, by his side?” 

“Dear, I guess this is the time and place to tell you. 
You know I told you we have our family skeleton. This 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


213 


is it. Your grandmother is not dead.” Amily turned 
pale, but did not interrupt her. “Your grandfather 
did not marry her till just before your father was 
born.” 

“Then my father was illegitimate.?” 

“No, dear, he was born in wedlock, but she was not 
his equal. She was the daughter of the hostler and his 
wife. She came to live here after Theodore was born. 
They never lived as man and wife, and your father 
was the only child. She lived in the left wing with 
the minarets. She was happy there as long as her 
father and mother lived ; her husband was very thought- 
ful and kind, but was husband in name only. When 
your father fell out with his father and went to Amer- 
ica, the mother began to grow melancholy, then shut 
herself in and would not see anyone. Your grandfather 
got a good nurse for her and she grew strong bodily, 
but mentally weaker and weaker till her mind was gone 
entirely.” 

“Oh, my dear Cousin Mary, where is she now?” 

“She is still in that left wing with the same at- 
tendant. She is old now and feeble; just like a little 
child. I go to her almost daily. Scarcely anyone 
knows she still lives. Your grandfather’s contempo- 
raries knew there was some sort of a scandal and a 
son. But being a man, society forgave him and took 
him back, and he could have divorced his wife and 
made a brilliant marriage, as he was very gaUant and 
handsome. He lived most of the time, after Theodore 
left England, in Paris and London. He spent every- 
thing, and when the Hall was sold my husband bought 
it, wishing to keep it in the family. Then he died, 
leaving me almost penniless. Your grandfather had 
prepared these tombs for himself and his wife before 


214 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the money was all gone. He came home to die, and 
he lies here. He begged me with his last breath to look 
after her, and I am trying to do the best I can for 
her. She has a very weak heart and Doctor Gray 
says she may die any moment; that any undue excite- 
ment may cause her heart to stop its beat. I am so 
sorry to have to tell you this, but as you are to live 
with me you would know, and it is best I should be 
the one to tell you. I do pray it may not sadden your 
young and joyous life. It has depressed me very much. 
Now I am accustomed to it, and my heart is always full 
of sympathy and pity. She does not suffer. That 
is a blessing. I could not stand to see her in pain. 
She was very pretty in her younger days ; now she has 
the most pleading, sad, beautiful eyes. 

“Here is the story of the haunted Hall. Once she 
escaped and strolled into the village and frightened 
some of the superstitious. When she was missed and 
brought back, her husband made them think it was 
only a likeness. They, thinking her dead and buried 
in this church where they read her name often, were 
easily fooled. At other times she was seen walking 
in the grounds, consequently they thought it her ghost. 
The most ignorant and superstitious think her ghost 
still walks abroad here at night and will not come near 
the estate.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


When they got back to the Hall Amily went to her 
room to read her letter. When she broke the seal a 
faint odor, hardly enough to be called an odor, came 
forth. It made her feel his presence. 

A tune or voice heard once remains in the memory, 
but a peculiar odor is rarely ever forgotten. Although 
it cannot be described or repeated at will, once smelled 
it will be recognized years later. Music comes next 
to odors in the power of emotional reminiscence. 

Amily sat some little time before she proceeded to 
read her letter, which was : 

‘‘My Dear Miss Freeeanhisen : 

“You said I might write you, but you did not say I 
could come to see you. I am lonely and miserable since 
you are gone, and your image has stayed with me till 
it is a part of me. When I think of not seeing your 
dear face I grow cold and nervous, and when I think 
of seeing you again I grow happy beyond all hope 
of expression. I lay my heart at your feet. Let me 
come and tell you how I love you. I will come when 
you let me and go when you bid me. You have touched 
my heart more profoundly than I thought even you 
could. 

“Henceforth I am yours, body and soul. You show 
such patience, tenderness, and kindness that, not being 
used to it, I grow overwhelmed with it. I would sac- 
215 


S16 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


rifice everything, even my life, for you. Won’t you 
try to love me, my beloved? I know I dream when I 
imagine it, still I say to my heart, ‘why does she look 
into my eyes with such faith and confidence?’ 

“I was a coward to let you go away without telling 
you how I love you. Darling, if you will love me and 
be my cherished and adored little wife, I will spend my 
life in making you happy. Darling, at first I thought 
I observed that you distrusted me. I would shrink 
and grow sick and faint. 

“Think, dear, what you are to me already. Won’t 
you let me come to see you? I will abide by your deci- 
sion. There is nothing except your will and God that 
shall interpose between you and me. I will be a friend 
to the last in any case. Now it rests with you to make 
me the very happiest of men. 

“Let me hear from you, dear, at your earliest con- 
venience. I subscribe myself 

“Yours always, 

“Richaed F. Douglas.” 

She read and reread the letter, then putting it down 
leaned her head on her hand and the teardrops fell 
between her fingers. Then she said to herself: “What 
am I, to be loved by this great, good man? I am not 
worthy of such love, and now that I know this black 
sin and blot on me I cannot marry him. It would not 
be right. How can I ever tell him? I love him with 
my whole soul and mind. I never have and never can 
love another.” 

The next morning was Sunday. Amily did not get 
up to breakfast, as she had slept but little. When 
the day was dawning and the world impatiently stir- 
ring she was dreaming of him, although wide awake. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


217 


The bells tolled in the village, and she said : “Do those 
bells ring, or is it that they are tolling a dirge to my 
dead conscience? I am on a wave, rolling fast, a wave 
perhaps of dark oblivion sea will sweep across me and 
sink me down to be forgotten in a day. But now my 
heart says ‘live,’ and I will live. I will take this joy 
of life that Fate has handed me.” Then she prayed: 
“My God, lift me out of this black pit that conquers 
me, show me the right.” 

Soon Cross came to know if she were ill. Lady 
Free had breakfasted long since and would not let 
her be disturbed. Now she wanted to know if Amily 
would go with her to Bowlie church. 

“Tell my Cousin Mary I will gladly go with her to 
church, and I prefer to drive the cob if she does not 
mind.” 

She dressed herself in a plain, old white linen suit that 
she had worn several seasons past. She was pale, sad, 
but pretty and sweet. Her cousin had noticed a change 
in her, though she could not tell what it was; but she 
thought to herself : “Could the story I told her yes- 
terday make such a change in a night? Yesterday she 
was a child ; this morning she is a woman.” 

Driving along, Amily said: “Cousin, I have some- 
thing to tell you. I told you something about Lord 
Douglas, though I did not tell you that he had won 
my heart.” She held her head down as she talked. “I 
was going to let him tell you. Now that I know our 
family secret I must tell you, for I can never marry 
him. I could never bring a breath of dishonor to his 
name.” 

“Dear, don’t talk like that! All the royal houses 
have their skeletons. Let those without sin cast the 
first stone.” 


218 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


They went in the old Bowlie church and sat in the 
Freelanhisen pew, where their ancestors had sat gen- 
erations before them. Amily sat listening to the clergy- 
man in his humdrum, monotonous Low Church, and in 
her troubled heart she said: “Blessed Sunday, peace 
and quiet, harmonizing with calmness our souls and 
making holy air around us.” She prayed to God to 
show her the right. “I want to be able to stand face 
to face with the world and make reply that I have 
done right.” 

Going home she proposed driving back through what 
used to be the old park, now a beautiful wood of old 
forest trees. She enjoyed, almost reveled, in the beau- 
ties and sublimities of nature, and enjoyed being here 
secluded from the maddening crowd, close to nature. 
She drove under a dense shade and stopped, and taking 
from her bosom the letter, said to Lady Freelanhisen: 
“I want to read this letter to you.” 

She read with a trembling voice to the end, then 
she broke down and cried heartily. Lady Freelanhisen 
placed her arm about her, when Amily said: “Forgive 
me, please, I am not usually as tearful as this. I am 
just tired. I am acting like a weak child, ready to 
sniffle at anything.” 

She straightened her shoulders resolutely, brushed 
the tears from her lashes, and strove to smile. There 
was a long silence, when Lady Free said: “Your fam- 
ily is as old as his, and perhaps he could unearth 
some hideous skeleton, too. And, dear, it seems the 
Englishman’s proverbial love for a lord is vanishing, 
a theory strengthened by the fact that up to the mo- 
ment of King Edward’s sudden and lamentable death 
the House of Commons was busy attempting to de- 
molish the House of Lords. Amily, I do not wish to 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


219 


speak disparagingly of Lord Douglas, but I wish you 
to see that he could not be contaminated by a mar- 
riage with the House of Freelanhisen. 

“I think, dear, when you are rested and composed, 
you should see your grandmother. She is very quiet, 
and you will not be shocked, and maybe you can rec- 
oncile yourself to knowing that she lives. She is nearly 
seventy-five years old.” 

The next day about four o’clock Lady Freelanhisen 
came to Amily where she sat in her room sewing on 
her lace mending and said: “If you feel equal to the 
ordeal, will you come with me to see Cordelia.?” 

Amily arose to go. They went through the hall 
and down a few steps to an open court, then across 
this to a kind of gate or door. Lady Freelanhisen 
pulled a bell and they waited some time before a woman 
came and opened the door with a big brass key. 

Lady Freelanhisen said: “Well, Mag, how is your 
patient to-day.? Did you tell her, as I requested you, 
that I should bring Lady Amily with me to see her 
to-day .?” 

“Yes, your Ladyship. She thinks I am talking about 
a baby. Her mind as well as her body grows weaker 
daily, and she has spells with her heart oftener now.” 

“Yes,” said Lady Freelanhisen. “Doctor Gray never 
goes back to the village without reporting her con- 
dition to me. He told me last Thursday when he was 
here that she was growing weaker.” 

The woman led them through a long corridor into 
another hall, then into a small, exceedingly neat, bright 
room, a sort of parlor containing, among other indi- 
cations of refined taste, many books, drawings, pots 
of flowers, and some musical instruments. A low fire 
burned on the hearth, although the windows were open. 


220 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


At their entrance the little old lady half arose from 
her chair and clapped her feeble, bony hands with de- 
light, saying: ‘‘Mary, Mary, fetch in your baby that 
you said you would bring.” 

Neatness and cleanliness marked her dress, which 
was all black. She had a feeble, shriveled, childish 
old face, with the emaciated pallor of death. Amily 
went up and took one of the poor little bony hands 
in hers and petted and humored her like she would a 
small child. She in turn talked like a child, saying: 
“What pretty little hands it has, just like my little 
Theodore.” 

The tears rolled down Amily’s cheek at the men- 
tion of her father’s name. The old lady saw the tears 
and called to her nurse: “Mag, bring the baby some 
of my flowers, she is crying.” 

She excited in Amily a feeling of mingled respect, 
reverence, and pity. On leaving she kissed her on 
her snowy hair and told her she would come to see 
her every day. 

When she reached her own room she lay on her bed 
thinking for a long time. She was glad she had seen 
her grandmother, for it did not seem so hideous now. 
She lay there in a silence most profound, finally say- 
ing: “I must answer his dear letter. Oh, what shall 
I tell him.f”’ She sat at her desk with her pen. “I 
could not write what I could say. I will tell him to 
come. My poor heart says, ‘Come,’ and I will follow 
its dictates.” 

So she wrote : 

“My Dear Richard: 

“You see I am not formal. Your letter filled me 
with pleasure and pain. I have waited to try to an- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


221 


swer it as my heart’s impulse directs. I will only say 
that I love you with all my heart, but the rest I cannot 
write. Come to me and I will tell what I cannot write. 

“In your letter you say I must be so taken up with 
my home and friends that I have forgotten those I 
left behind. I could never do that. I will confess I 
am in a state of supreme content with my new home, 
and my Cousin Lady Freelanhisen is the grandest, love- 
liest character that I have ever known in this wonder- 
ful world to which we are led. We pity the human 
sufferings in which the heart of woman keeps noble 
and great. She comes from the cavern of a black deep, 
from the sea that smites, yet she says, ‘So little done, 
brave heart, so much to do.’ 

“My Cousin Mary is so dear to me that I have told 
her of you, and she is prepared to love you for my 
sake. You will be welcome to this old Hall so long 
closed to visitors. I am sorry I shall not be able to 
meet my friends at the St. Ermius, as I promised and 
hoped to do, when they return from Scotland. I can- 
not leave my cousin; she needs me. 

“Leave that great populous city and come to us for 
a few days, and my cousin will help me explain every- 
thing to you. Write me when you will come, that I 
may have the pleasure of expecting you. 

“To-day I had a letter forwarded from the St. Er- 
mius from Dunbar Warfield, the young medical student 
I told you I had met on the steamer coming over. He 
was going to Berlin to study medicine, and he will be 
in London on the tenth of the month, and he said he 
would call on me. I wish I could be there to see him 
and introduce him to you. He is one of nature’s noble- 
men. He told me of himself and his life. He came 
from very poor but honest parents, worked and helped 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


222 

to support his mother while he went to school at night. 
In that way he fitted himself for the high school from 
which he was graduated with the highest honors. Then 
he worked his way through college ; now he is over here. 
He came in the steerage because he was too poor to 
come first class, and yet he helped that poor woman 
who buried her husband at sea. He gave his money to 
help her like a millionaire. He has high ideals and 
is working hard to realize them. I wish I could help 
him. I am not vain enough, however, to think my 
infiuence would be of much help. I think some day that 
he will be distinguished in his profession. 

“My dear friend, I say enough of Dunbar Warfield. 
My cousin joins me in inviting you to come as a wel- 
come guest to Freelanhisen Hall. This letter is long, 
though I meant it to be brief. I only intended to say, 
‘I love you ; come.’ 

“When I read your dear letter over, as I have many 
times, and you tell me you love me, I think it is the 
nectar of delight, and tasting it I drift and dream and 
I do not wish to awake. I feel that I am the recipient 
of fairy gifts or the favored child of the gods, to be 
loved by my ideal. 

“I must not write longer. 

“Maybe you might think me too quickly won, but we 
Americans are usually frank, and we know our own 
hearts, and I write again, I love you, while I might 
blush to tell it to you. Yet I know my heart will 
break when I tell you I cannot marry you. I think 
when two people give themselves to each other laws, 
conventions, obstacles, everything but love, ought to 
be lost sight of. 

“Wait, dear, till I tell you why I cannot marry you 
and you may see that I am right. I shall love you 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


as long as I live, and not to see you again would be 
no life, all desolation. Really, now, I must close this 
letter. Beheve me 

“Yours always, 

“Amily Freelanhisen.” 

She finished this letter and took it to Lady Free- 
lanhisen and asked her to read it while she took a walk. 
She wished to be alone ; the woods called her and 
she responded. She walked slowly through the heart 
of the isolated forest wood, and was soon only a stone’s 
throw from Bowlie church, where rested the bones of 
her ancestors, who could be counted back three or four 
centuries, some of the ablest chiefs, some of the most 
valiant soldiers, whose deeds adorn the history of Eu- 
rope. She sat down on a stump and tried to collect 
her thoughts, her mind was a perfect chaos. 

Soon she was startled by the sound of a horse’s slow 
tread, and looking up, she saw almost in front of her 
a gentleman, hat in hand, bowing low. 

“I beg your pardon,” he said, “but I think you are 
Miss Freelanhisen. I am Sir Robert Boxley, a lifelong 
friend and neighbor of your father and your Cousin 
Mary. My daughter Annie told me she has been await- 
ing my return from Paris, where I have been for a 
fortnight past, to call on you. Seeing you at Bowlie 
church she was told that you were Lady Amily Free- 
lanhisen, Theodore’s daughter from America. I live 
about three miles the other side of Bowlie church, 
where rest the bones of my ancestors beside those of 
the Freelanhisens, for a good many generations back. 
Do you walk in this woods often? If you do, you must 
have seen my son John. I expected to meet him near 
the church. He rode to Redich. He frequents these 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


woods as if they were his own. They were once pri- 
vate property and belonged to the Freelanhisen es- 
tate, but they were confiscated by the principality, 
like a great deal of the landed property. I think, with 
the Hon. David Lloyd George as Chancellor of the Ex- 
chequer in the British ministry, that the removal of the 
sin of landed property is near. The removal of this 
great universal sin will form an epoch in the history of 
mankind that will show other nations the way to a free, 
rational, and happy life.” 

“Oh, do you feel like that?” said Amily. “You talk 
like an American.” 

“I have always admired Americans very much, es- 
pecially their democracy.” 

“Sir Robert Boxley, I am so pleased to meet you. 
My Cousin Mary has told me of you and a few other 
friends of hers that live near. We will be glad to see 
and welcome you and your family when you call.” 

He walked by her, talking till they came to the 
Hall grounds. She invited him in, but he very po- 
litely declined, asking her to remember him to her 
Cousin Mary. 

When Amily got to the veranda Lady Freelanhisen 
came to meet her and placed her arms around her and 
said: “My dear, how I prayed to spare you this sor- 
row and injury, but I think it best for you to know.” 

“Yes; already she has hurt me deeply, she has in- 
jured me sorely beyond repair. Yet she is innocent, 
and I freely forgive her. I shall wait on her and never 
leave her. I am hers as long as she lives.” 

“How like the Freelanhisens of old! I don’t think 
it is required of you. The sacrifice is too great, to 
give up your lover and live in this mad house — must 
I say the word? These wonderful hells into which we 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


descend at such times, who will picture them to one 
who has not dwelt in them? Dear, your letter is all 
it could be, so frank, rings so true. I know you mean 
every word of it. But how can you explain?” 

“I have thought of that, and I will not explain. I 
will tell him there is an obstacle insurmountable. It 
will break my heart, I know, to send him from me for- 
ever.” 


CHAPTER XX 


The night was dark, the sky draped in black clouds 
with rumbling thunder and imprisoned lightning turned 
loose. These flashes gave Amily glimpses of the wood 
and the dark shadows that seemed to be human forms 
gliding between the trees. She was so nervous she could 
not sleep. 

Suddenly she thought she heard someone at her 
door, trying to turn the knob. Being brave and fear- 
less, she got up and lighted her lamp and opened 
the door. Behold! her eyes rested on that deathlike 
face of her grandmother, with streaming thin white 
hair and wild, startled eyes of a maniac. She reached 
her little clawlike fingers at Amily, who did not scream 
or faint, but with her natural presence of mind spoke 
gently and low, like one would speak to a sick child. 

‘‘Come in, dear. Have you been in the rain? Where 
is your nurse Mag?” 

“She is asleep, and I took the key and went out 
in the park to look for Theodore, my little boy, and 
when the flash made it light I saw your face in the 
window, and I came to get you to go with me. I can- 
not cross the brook; it roars and splashes so that I 
cannot cross. My baby is on the other side. Come, 
I say. There! see those ghosts. I see far and clearly. 
Come!” she shrieked, clutching her fingers in Amily’s 
hair, with one wild laugh and a wail. 

“Yes, dear, I will go,” said Amily, “but let us wait 
only a moment till the fury of this storm passes.” 

226 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 227 

“No, no, now, now! Don’t you see my little Theo- 
dore will be engulfed ? Let me go.” 

Amily spent some moments trying to calm and re- 
strain the mad woman, and just as her strength was 
about exhausted Cross came. She had heard the shrieks 
and had guessed the cause. With Cross’ help they got 
the aged woman quiet. Her strength was spent, and 
she dropped to sleep in Amily ’s arms. Mag, too, had 
missed her charge, and by the light in the window 
had traced her here. She wanted to take her charge 
to her apartment, but Amily would not let her be 
awakened. 

She sat here with these two old women and her grand- 
mother sleeping, till the gray gloom of the dawn before 
the grandmother awoke calm but weaker. She allowed 
herself to be taken and put to bed. Amily would not 
leave her till the nurse said: “Look, she sleeps beau- 
tifully.” 

Amily went back with Cross, and when Cross had 
tucked her in bed she told her she would not get up 
to breakfast, as she would not want to eat, and asked 
not to be disturbed. She did not get up till eleven 
o’clock. After a cold bath she dressed for a walk. 
The rain had passed and the sun was shining now. 

She went to find her cousin, who was reading in her 
boudoir, and she smiled when she saw Amily. 

“Come, my child,” she said. “I have heard from 
Cross your sad experience of last night. Oh, I am so 
sorry! you must have been terribly frightened. Why 
did you not send for me.?” 

“I was startled at first, until I realized who and 
what it was. I am very glad you told me when yoq 
did, otherwise I might have been awfully scared.” 

“I have been to see her, and she seems none the worse 


228 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


for her night escapade, although she is very feeble. 
The lightning and thunder made her nervous, and find- 
ing Mag asleep she, with the cunning of demented per- 
sons, took the key from where she saw it hidden. My 
dear, this was a sad ordeal for you. Oh, I know the 
great, good Lord sent you here ! I have prayed : ‘Leave 
me not alone in this affliction,’ and I seemed to hear a 
voice saying: ‘Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his 
righteousness, and all these things, the necessities of 
life, shall be added unto you,’ and lo I you came, a bless- 
ing indeed. Dear, please tap my bell for Cross. We 
wiU have lunch in my boudoir. I have told Jenks to 
bring the trap around. A drive in the beautiful sun- 
shine will do us both good.” 

“I shall enjoy it,” said Amily. “I dressed for a 
walk, but the ground must be damp and a ride with 
you will please me.” 

“We will drive into Redich after our mail,” said her 
Cousin Mary. 

“And I will take my work in and express it to Lon- 
don. I am sure it will please, as I have taken extra 
pains with it, and I will expect more to do by the 
next mail.” 

When they were driving along Amily said : “This spot 
is where I met your friend, Robert Boxley. He surely 
is a courtly, polished gentleman.” 

“Yes, dear, he is a good man, too, but his cup of sor- 
row and trouble has been to the brim and running 
over. We have our troubles, but when I think of others 
who have had a harder burden, mine loses some of its 
awfulness. My friend, Robert Boxley, belongs to an 
old and illustrious family and he himself was in Par- 
liament. His eldest son committed embezzlement; then 
Annie, his only daughter, was betrayed by an aristo- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


229 


cratic connection. When she was about to become a 
mother her perfidious lover repudiated her and her 
luckless offspring. In a fit of despair and revolt she 
made an attempt upon the life of her betrayer. That 
is their skeleton. Annie has never married and has been 
a recluse, and her brother is a wanderer in Africa. 
J ohn, the youngest, is a fine young man. He is tender, 
noble, sensitive, very cordial, but indifferent, timid to 
excess, and doubtful of his merits and power. I have 
tried to be kind to them, and this and one or two other 
houses are the only places they go.” 

They drove in front of the post-office. Amily ran 
in and came out with several letters and many papers 
and magazines for Lady Freelanhisen. They drove 
through the main street to the drug store, got some 
medicine and some other things. Driving slowly along 
they did not hear the footsteps of a horse till their 
old cob backed his ears and neighed. 

Soon John Boxley was alongside them, saying: “How 
do you do, dear Lady Free.?” 

“Why, I am glad to see you, John. This is my 
cousin. Lady Amily, from America.” 

“I am delighted, I assure you,^ he said, bowing low. 
Raising his eyes he met the frank, friendly expression 
in Amily’s that put him at once at his ease. His in- 
dividuality and broad, open countenance won people 
to him. 

“I am glad to have the pleasure of meeting your 
cousin,” he said. “I should have recognized her, as my 
father described her so perfectly. We are to call at 
the Hall to-morrow evening. I think my father sent 
a servant over to the Hall this afternoon to see if 
it would be agreeable.” 

“I am sorry I was not there to send word back by 


230 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the servant, but you will oblige me very much if you 
will tell your father that we shall be pleased and com- 
plimented to have him with the members of his family 
to tea, to-morrow at five o’clock.” 

He had a twinkle in his eye and with a boyish frank- 
ness said: “We thank you, and in the name of the fam- 
ily I accept. Dear Lady Free, I shall be prompt, never 
fear.” 

Amily told him that she admired the lovely horse 
he was riding, and he answered: “Yes, she is a thor- 
oughbred. I have the mate to her and she is really a 
better saddle animal than this one. They are spirited, 
but very gentle and easily managed. Do you ride.^” 

“Yes,” she answered. “I used to love to ride very 
much in my home in the Ozark Mountains of America. 
We never owned fine stock, and I used to ride with my 
young brother any old hack or burro. I don’t know 
how I ride, as I have never had anyone to teach me 
and I have never been well mounted. As I am very 
fond of horses and am fearless, I am sure I would be 
an apt pupil.” 

“I would deem it a great honor and pleasure to teach 
you,” he answered. “My other horse I call Starling, 
and I would be glad to have you ride her, that is, of 
course, with the consent of Lady Freelanhisen.” 

“John dear, you have my free approval and consent 
to begin your lessons when it pleases you. You will 
have to begin soon, for on the 10th Amily goes to 
Palace Chenang, the home of Le Comte Batus Beamer, 
for two weeks, and from there to a week’s shooting 
at the Chateau of Lord Douglas.” 

“I am very sorry to lose you just as our lessons are 
about to begin.” 

“We will have plenty of time for those rides in three 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


2S1 


or four weeks, I assure you. After my other engage- 
ments I may remain a week in London to shop a little 
for Cousin Mary,” said Amily. 

He rode away, and Amily looked after him and said : 
“Is he not a fine fellow And such a good horseman. 
He rides like the knights of old.” 

“I am very glad he offered to teach you to ride. I 
have been so afraid you would get lonely and home- 
sick with no young companions.” 

On reaching the Hall, Amily went to her room to 
read her letters. Her heart quickened its beat when 
she read Lord Douglas’ letter. He said he would be 
at the Hall for the week’s-end and sent compliments 
and thanks to Lady Freelanhisen. At the conclusion 
he said: “You have given back that outworn dream; 
you have made my life clean and strong; you have re- 
stored to me my childhood heart.” 

She held the letter to her breast. Twilight stealing 
on shaded her as she fell asleep with a load of love, 
innocence, and truthfulness that lay so lightly on 
that luminous and buoyant ocean of her heart, which 
was the personal genius of the girl. 

At luncheon the following day Lady Freelanhisen 
said: “Come with me, I want you to see what I have 
that you can use. My jewels are old-fashioned set- 
tings. All the Freelanhisen family jewels were sold 
and pawned for debts by our forebears. Mine are 
from my own mother’s family. There are not many, 
but I think they are very good stones, and I have 
some rare old laces that maybe you can use.” 

“No, dear Cousin Mary, I would feel I was flying un- 
der false colors, and my friends know I cannot afford 
to wear diamonds.” 

“I intended, if you live here with me, to leave them 


2S2 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


to you with the old Hall. It should go to some one of 
the Freelanhisen blood, and it is mine by right of pur- 
chase to leave to whom I please.” 

They looked through a large iron chest which stood 
in a kind of vault or strong box at the head of Lady 
Freelanhisen’s bed. They took out some very fine 
old lace, packed in rice paper and starch, and also an 
old morocco case. Lifting the lid, a flash of sparkling 
gems met the delighted view of the girl. 

“How beautiful!” exclaimed Amily. 

Lady Free took out a comb like a coronet, set with 
rose diamonds, some old-fashioned earrings, with brooch 
to match, pendants, a lovely old necklace, and many 
queer old rings, some with romantic histories. One 
ring she placed on Amily’s finger, saying: “This ring 
I wish you to wear. It bears the seal of the Queen 
of England. It was given to your great-grandmother 
by the queen. They were contemporaries and dear 
friends.” 

The ring was small, not showy, a coronet set with 
very pure white small stones. 

“I will wear this ring for your dear sake, not for 
the sake of the queen or my great-grandmother,” she 
said. 

“Now we had better go over the guest chambers and 
decide which to give Lord Douglas. We always think 
the south suite is the most pleasant. We must have 
Liz air it well.” 

When they had gone over the several suites, they 
decided the south one was the most pleasant. Lady 
Freelanhisen said: “It will look more pleasant and 
homelike when flowers are placed and the light let 
in. The furniture is old and faded, but comfortable.” 

“I have admired this apartment most,” said Amily. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


233 


“I come in here and sit and look at the pictures. Som6 
are so quaint. I wonder why the old masters loved to 
paint their ideal beauties with their hands on the head 
of a lamb. There is always a lamb in the picture, like 
the sculptors nearly always have them on the tombs.” 

“They are, I believe, the emblem of innocence,” said 
Lady Freelanhisen. 

After lunch, John Boxley came over, leading one 
and riding the other of his two beautiful thorough- 
breds. Amily had received a note apprising her of his 
coming, and was ready, having improvised a skirt, 
with a white shirtwaist and small hat. She was really 
very natty. 

Lady Freelanhisen came out to see the mount, and 
declared Amily was a natural horsewoman, she sat 
on the horse so well. Amily patted her mount’s neck 
and called her Starling, and the beautiful creature 
seemed to understand. 

When John mounted they started down the drive 
at a canter, John kissing his hand to Lady Freelanhisen 
as they passed into the trees and out of sight. She 
watched them till she could see them no longer, then 
she said: “What a pretty couple, so young and full 
of life.” 

The twain rode some little distance in silence. John 
hardly dared look at her, all the tingling blood leaped 
and surged and thrilled at the sound of her voice. 
She put him at his ease by her friendly manner, tell- 
ing about her rides in the Ozarks and about America 
in general. 

After a while he said: “It must be very nice to 
have all of one’s friends very rich. I hear they are 
nearly all millionaires.” 

“No,” said Amily, “you have the wrong idea. There 


2S4< 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


are lots of poor, real poor gentlemen. Money repre- 
sents with us in America energy and character. It 
is acquired by brains and untiring effort, and it is 
kept only by the same means. It were well if Europe 
were imbued more with the American ideas of money 
power. I do not say ideals, that is another thing. But 
American ideas about developing the natural resources 
of the country and their common-sense notions about 
work would bring about great things in Europe.” 

“I have thought I should like to go to a new country 
like that,” said John, ‘‘and make my own way, and I 
shall when my governor passes away. I could not leave 
while he lives. He depends upon me so much, and he 
has had a lot of worries, too.” 

“I am sure you would love beautiful America,” re- 
turned Amily ; “it is so big, broad, and free. Some day 
posterity may find the explanation of why the Eng- 
lish aristocracy retained its power so long. Those 
who make a close and reverent study of the plan of 
our Savior as found in the New Testament are un- 
able to understand intolerance or bigotry in any shape 
whatsoever. I do declare, we have fallen into a seri- 
ous strain of conversation.” She laughed, and he 
joined her with that hearty spontaneous laugh of joy- 
ous youth. 

Soon they came to Bowlie church. They checked 
their horses and admired the grand old trees, cen- 
turies old. They got off and went in, reading epitaphs 
of their ancestors. They read, “Annie H. Boxley.” 
“That is my mother,” he said. 

The next tier was the name, Vardy Ereelanhisen, 
Amily’s grandfather, and next to that the empty grave, 
bearing the name of her grandmother. He looked 
at her and skipped that one, but she read the name 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


2S5 


aloud, and looked at him with a frank, honest ex- 
pression and said: “She is not here; she lives.” 

There was a silence, then he said: “Yes, our family 
know she lives ; but few do know it.” 

“She has been dead to the world since my father 
ran away to America, when she lost her reason, and 
her husband had these tombs fixed, little thinking he 
would occupy his before his wife. There are so many 
living tombs and skeletons in England,” she went on. 
“In America we are open and above-board. Every- 
body knows about everybody else. We deem it a grave 
blunder to make an outcry over the scandals of Eng- 
lish society, yet there is scarcely a family but what 
has its scandal. Of course I have not just found 
that out. You have only to read the history of the 
kings and queens. I can speak to you like this because 
I am part English.” 

“Oh, you need not mind me, I know the most of the 
kings were a shabby lot.” 

“Over there we all highly honor Queens Victoria and 
Alexandra and the new Queen as good, pure, and beau- 
tiful women, especially Alexandra. She is beautiful, 
soul and body. Perhaps what appeals to me person- 
ally is her gentle womanliness. She made King Ed- 
ward as good as he was. All good women should honor 
her.” 

When they had talked some time in this serious strain 
Amily laughed a ringing laugh and said : “We talk like 
our grandmothers and grandfathers, but you know I 
have heard my mother’s people — I mean the Americans 
— called the vulgar rich and the girls called the pretty 
plebeians till I just had to retaliate, and have it out 
with you.” 

“I wish. Lady Amily, that all my battles would be 


S36 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


such merry wars. We will never quarrel on that sub- 
ject, as all the Americans I have met are a jolly lot, 
don’t you know.” 

“No, I don’t know,” she answered; “but I hope they 
have been nice.” 

He was so English and so literal. He was trying 
to explain how really nice they were if they were 
Americans. She laughed again, a little sarcastically, 
but it was lost on the heavy young fellow. Yet she 
liked him, and felt like she would love to see him after 
he had been a year in one of our best colleges. There 
was a lot in him. He was honest, big, and broad, and 
she thought she would love to see him mix with a Har- 
vard or Princeton crowd and hear him after he came 
back, upholding liberty, equality, and see the glory 
make him proud. 

When they got back to the Hall the lights were on 
and Lady Freelanhisen, with Cross, had walked to the 
lodge to see if they could see them. 

“Cousin Mary,” cried Amily, “you must not blame 
me for staying so late. Sir John took me such a cir- 
cuitous route that once I really thought we were hope- 
lessly lost.” 

He laughed and said: “Lady Ereelanhisen knows I 
could not be lost blindfolded.” 

Amily insisted on his coming in to tea, but he po- 
litely declined, promising to give her another lesson 
before she went to London. They watched him till 
he had passed out at the lodge gate. Amily put her 
arm around her Cousin Mary’s waist and walked into 
the dining-room with her, telling her what a glorious 
ride she had had, and how she liked Sir John, how far 
they went, and how the time flew. 

“My dear,” said Lady Freelanhisen to Amily, “don’t 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


237 


be too nice and sweet to young John; he is very sus- 
ceptible and young. Don’t hurt him.” 

“Cousin Mary, I don’t think there is any danger, 
as I fussed and almost quarreled and found fault with 
England, and criticised the English people. Was that 
not enough to disenchant him?” 

“I fear it would require more,” said her Cousin 
Mary. “Amily, I only warn you in time. It would 
be frightfully embarrassing, and I should be sorry.” 

“Very well, I shall be very guarded and, if possi- 
ble, be more disagreeable than I have been to-day,” 
answered Amily. 

“You don’t seem to have made an impression that 
way. The young man seemed blissful when he bade 
us good-by.” 

They both laughed and a blush stole to Amily’s cheek 
and a seriousness to her eyes. 


CHAPTER XXI 


The next morning Amily was up quite early and had 
a walk. She was happiness itself, as this was the day 
for Lord Douglas to arrive. She had laid out her 
white muslin dress and made fresh bows of ribbons for 
it, to wear that evening to dinner, and she had gath- 
ered flowers and placed them in his room, hoping that 
the dew would not dry on them before he saw them. 

“Listen to my heart, how its every beat is for him,” 
she said to herself. “Oh, I must not think! If he 
should turn from me when I tell him to his face that 
I cannot marry him!” The word dropped into si- 
lence. “Oh, it is madness to think of my future with- 
out his love! Once I heard Henry Van Dyke, pro- 
fessor of English literature in Princeton, say that one 
should grow to understand and enjoy noble things by 
companionship and glory in love. I have never forgot- 
ten it. My sister-in-law Jane was with me. Now I 
realize the meaning. I did not know how to enjoy 
love and life till I met and loved my ideal.” 

These memories, fragmentary and indistinct, 
crowded into her brain, making her eyes brim with 
tears one moment and her lips bubble with laughter 
the next. At breakfast her Cousin Mary said: “Dear, 
you look so happy to-day.” 

“I will be happy to-day,” she answered ; “I may not 
be to-morrow. One day, twenty-four hours, can mean 
so much. Now I feel that ten hours will decide my fate 
to be happy or miserable.” 

238 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


239 


“No, no, my dear; do not be so positive. You 
were created to be happy, and you will, you must.” 

They strolled into the garden to an old summer- 
house and took one of the seats side by side. Then 
Amily pulled a white rose and placed it in the side of 
her cousin’s white hair, and said: “You should always 
have white roses on and about you; they become you 
and seem a part of you.” 

Then in a restless way she gathered more flowers 
and, humming snatches of half-forgotten Ozark melo- 
dies, she tossed away her hat and her pretty hair blew 
over her face. They had not heard the sound of an 
automobile and they were startled to hear a strange 
voice. They heard the chauffeur saying, “The old 
man” — meaning Jenks — “said you could find the ladies 
in the garden.” 

Amily looking out of the summerhouse saw Lord 
Douglas, who had his back turned, directing his serv- 
ant. She said to Lady Freelanhisen : “ ’Tis Lord Doug- 
las. I thought he was coming this evening.” She had 
time to compose herself before she tripped out to meet 
him with outstretched hand. 

“How do you do. Lord Douglas 1 Welcome to Free- 
lanhisen Hall.” 

He was more embarrassed than she, holding her hand, 
with his heart in his eyes. They stood there, hardly 
realizing that they were still holding hands. She, 
the first to break the spell, dropped his hand, then 
catching one again, led him to the summerhouse and 
introduced her cousin to him. 

Lady Freelanhisen, with exquisite and never-failing 
courtesy mingled with strange dignity and authority, 
welcomed him. After a brief chat on the beauty of 
the day she suggested that their talk be continued in 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


MO 

the parlor. She led the way to a large parlor carpeted 
heavily with a whitish carpet, over which were many 
Oriental rugs, some very old and costly. The hangings 
were of that same whitish faded tone, restful to the eye, 
and giving the place an elegance and perfect taste 
of past grandeur. Lady Freelanhisen felt the call 
of her own. She was young again; at any rate, these 
present spring breezes were blowing on her soul as 
on a young green leaf. She would wave and sway 
and rise and fall in the midst of the conversation with 
the intense calm which is full of quickening and stir 
of good birth. A drowsy, dreamy influence seemed to 
hang over the place and to pervade the very atmos- 
phere, making one feel at home and at ease. 

Speaking of the vantage grounds of Europe, Lord 
Douglas asked Amily about the charges of New York 
society of which one heard so much on this side of the 
water. She said she was sorry the worst of it had 
been so much advertised. 

‘T can speak with authority about my people. I 
have always kept in touch with them, although being 
quite young and poor I could not go out among them. I 
know, however, they are a new age and often have ideas 
different from the old conservative ones. They are 
full of health and abundant spirits, and the embodi- 
ments of the new age of athletic development and out- 
of-door life. It is perhaps true that they frequently 
go into excess in amusements, but they are not what 
you English credit them. There are distinctions in 
social grades felt by the older stock of well-placed 
Americans who, while far removed from snobs, hold 
together in loyalty to their order more faithfully 
than do the crowned heads of Europe. I have read 
in the London papers that our young ladies smoke and 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


Ml 


drink, and do other terrible things. How absurd! 
Nothing is sacred in the opinion of those who con- 
duct some papers. The only purpose they have is to 
sell their papers. The trouble is that most of us have 
a love of gossip, and the more sensational and ridicu- 
lous the more warmly it is welcomed.” 

“You have the right idea,” Lord Douglas answered: 
“there is too much freedom of the press. It is com- 
ing to the pass that we have no privacy, even in our 
homes.” 

The conversation was interrupted by Cross, who 
reminded Lady Freelanhisen that luncheon would be 
served shortly. She excused herself, saying: “Lord 
Douglas, you have been so entertaining you have made 
me forget my duties as hostess.” 

Cross went with Lord Douglas to show him his apart- 
ments, to which she had already had his luggage sent, 
and his man had laid out his things. 

Arrived at his room, he wondered if anything could 
be more homelike. Flowers and sunshine filled the 
rooms, and his own things were in their proper places. 
He felt as if he had known and visited this place 
always. 

At luncheon Amily was bright and chatty. She had 
rearranged her hair and made a slight change in her 
attire. She was so happy that she was radiantly beau- 
tiful. She and Lady Freelanhisen were the most charm- 
ing hostesses. 

“Lady Freelanhisen,” said Lord Douglas, “wiU you 
let me drive you in my car this afternoon Lady Amily 
has promised to show me some pretty views. I think, 
while I do not wish to flatter myself, that I am a first- 
rate driver, even better than my chauffeur, who is called 
fine, and I will drive to please you if you will give me 


24>2 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the pleasure. The afternoon is perfect and I am sure 
you will enjoy it.” 

‘T shall be delighted,” said Lady Freelanhisen. “I 
am so accustomed to jogging along with our old slow 
cob I shall like to go rather slow, and I fear young 
people are so speed mad in this day and generation 
that it might bore you.” 

“I assure you, Lady Freelanhisen, I am an excep- 
tion. I never care to drive at a speed above twenty 
miles at the highest, and I never race. Now, what 
hour would suit you.?” 

“I think about three o’clock a pleasant time,” and 
saying that she would be ready on time, Lady Free 
excused herself, leaving Cross in her place. Lord 
Douglas walked out on the porch through a long 
casement window, asking Lady Amily, as he now called 
her, to tell him the name of this rose blooming so 
profusely here in late October. She followed him and 
sat by him on the porch seat. He had pulled some 
of the roses, placing them in her lap. 

“You should wear flowers,” he said; “they become 
you. I think you should always wear white flowers, 
they suit you best. These pink roses are lovelier since 
you hold them.” 

“I fear you flatter me,” she said. 

“I could not do that if I tried ever so hard,” he 
answered. “Could one flatter the lily or the rose.? I 
had a few moments alone with your cousin and I asked 
her permission to address you. She said I had her 
consent. You know how I love you; I could repeat 
that over till you were tired of the word. Amily, 
my darling, won’t you be my wife.? I will spend the 
remainder of my life trying to make you the very hap- 
piest little wife in all the world and yours shall be 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


243 


the hand to guide me. Darling, tell me you love me. 
Your dear eyes have said it and you have written it, 
but I want to hear your sweet voice and lips con- 
firm it.” 

Her hand unconsciously sought his, nestling into it 
with a confidence that touched him, and, looking into 
his eyes, she said: ‘‘Richard, I love you as few women 
have ever loved, with my heart, body, and soul, and all 
that I am.” 

He drew her to him saying: “Darling, we are one 
spirit, one career ; we are a single life.” 

“Yet I cannot be your wife, and I cannot explain. 
When I first saw you in London I loved you. At first 
sight my heart went out to you in that pawnshop, 
before I even knew who you were. I did not know 
that I would ever see you again, but I reahzed that 
I had seen my master and my ideal. I tried so hard 
not to think of you and to forget you. Imagine, if 
you can, my surprise and delight when you came to 
the St. Ermius and Le Comte Batus Beamer introduced 
us. I could scarcely control myself.” 

“My darling,” he said, “I followed you because you 
drew me. The Jew pawnbroker told me you asked if 
the tramcar took you to or near your hotel, the St. 
Ermius. I told my chauflPeur to drive me there, and 
luck, or my lucky star, induced Beamer to invite me 
in. Now, darling, that we have found each other, don’t 
ruin both our lives. I cannot conceive of an obstacle 
great enough to separate us. Can you not trust me.?^ 
Can you not tell me.? I can break any barrier. I will 
not let anything stand in the way of my future hap- 
piness. Won’t you trust me and tell me.? Please do; 
ah, do!” 

“It is not that I do not trust you fully,” she an- 


244 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


swered, ‘‘but Richard, dear, the secret is not mine, so 
I should not teU it to you. I did not know it until I 
came to Freelanhisen HaU.” 

“Is there no way for me to know?” he asked. 

Great tears came to Amily’s eyes and she said 
through her tears: “I do not know.” 

These tears disclosed to him her brave, clean spirit 
that was content to take the consequence of duty 
done. All the finest parts of her character were 
brought to bear in this trial. She maintained calm 
self-command in the painful, heart-thrilling un- 
certainty. 

Lord Douglas had no further time to prolong this 
conversation, as his chauffeur brought his car to the 
door for Lady Free’s outing. Dismissing the driver. 
Lord Douglas himself took the wheel, and the ladies 
entered the machine. 

After the drive of fifteen miles it grew dark and 
they seemed to be lost in the woods, having gone some 
miles out of their way. Now an opening in the trees 
cheered him with the hope that the church bridge 
was at hand. The waving reflection of a star in the 
bosom of the brook told him he was not mistaken. He 
saw the walls of the church dimly glowing under the 
trees beyond. 

Then he laughed and told Lady Freelanhisen that 
for the last few moments he had been lost. She 
laughed, too, and said: “I thought you were coming 
back a queer way. I said nothing, as I presumed you 
knew how to find the way back.” 

Lady Freelanhisen sat in the back seat with Cross, 
while Amily sat by Douglas’ side. When they arrived 
at the lodge the chauffeur was waiting to open the 
gate and drive the machine in. Lord Douglas let the 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


U5 


ladies out under the porte-cochere, and drove with his 
men to the stables. 

Here Douglas’ man, Robles, said to Jenks: ‘‘They 
used to carry a big string here. I see stalls for about 
twenty-five, and place for seven or eight rigs.” 

Jenks nodded his head and said: “Yes, we used to 
entertain and ’ave the ’ouse full. Now the missus is 
not so young as she used to be, and we ’ave no men 
to ride and shoot, so we ’ad no use for a ’ostler, and 
we keeps only the cob for the missus.” 

Lord Douglas admired the loyalty of the old man, 
who never once would admit that it was for lack of 
money that things had gone to decay and ruin. The 
old man had the dignity and pride of a gentleman. 


CHAPTER XXII 


When Amily had sent Lord Douglas back to Lon- 
don she was as miserable as he. She shut herself in 
her room and had long cries, finding some relief in 
tears. He had had long talks with Lady Freelan- 
hisen in private, which had given him no satisfaction 
whatever. He went away, hoping to see Amily at 
Chenang and persuade her to be his wife regardless 
of any secret, and she hoping that by some chance he 
would know, though she could not tell him. 

“After he does find out, if he ever does, and comes 
to me and says, ‘Be my wife,’ oh, the world will not 
hold a creature as happy as I,” she thought. 

This vague terror overshadowed her future, and now 
her brow was overcast by a darker cloud than ever. 
As she sat in her room some time after Lord Douglas 
had gone a smile mingled with the gloom of bitterness, 
disappointment, and deep despondency. She retained 
in after years only a vague, confused remembrance of 
keen anguish and an abiding sense of irreparable loss. 

She rose and went to Lady Freelanhisen and, putting 
her head on her shoulder, said : “Cousin Mary, help me 
to give him up. It is breaking my heart.” 

“Darling, don’t say that. You are so young; it will 
all come right. He loves you so much that I say love 
finds a way; don’t give up. I was sorely tempted to 
tell him. He plead with me so gallantly and nobly I 
could scarcely resist his pleading, and I never shall for- 
246 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 247 

get his handsome face, expressing, it seemed to me, a 
heritage of woe when he bade me good-by.” 

Amilj turned deathly pale at this. In defying this 
torture she had not calculated her strength, poor child I 
Life till now had been so bright, so cheery, so joy- 
ous. The first real pang almost overcame her. 

She bravely rallied, however, and said: “I do not 
know how I shall resist his pleading when I am with 
him at Chenang. Mrs. Miller’s letter begs me to be 
there to meet her when she arrives next Thursday. 
She says that Captain Miller has written to London 
and had rooms reserved for his party, and that my 
room is next her own. Dear Cousin Mary, I wish you 
could have accepted Le Comte’s invitation, I need you 
so. I feel that when I am out of your sight that I am 
not the strong, brave girl you have made me. I feel 
that this visit is an end to my career. I will amount 
to nothing, will shut myself into this seclusion, and 
fret my life away. I will do all I can to make you 
happy and do everything for you, dear Cousin Mary, 
but I will not care for the world or wish to live.” 

“Dear, you will probably feel very different when 
you return from Chenang.” 

“I don’t see how I can ever endure to make myself 
agreeable to most of the sap-headed Englishmen I know 
I shall meet there.” 

“Don’t say that of our men. You are not well. I 
never heard you talk like that before. You must re- 
member your father was English, I am English, and 
your lover is English.” 

“Yes, you all are exceptions. Those who come to 
America are very pompous and tell of how their fam- 
ily is descended from royalty, and that they always 
dress for dinner, ‘don’t you know,’ and talk to me of 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


M8 

the ignorance of the Americans, and about our coun- 
try being so blasted new, and always wishing to find 
out how to meet the millionairesses. They are usu- 
ally very shabby genteel, and talk about the beastly 
weather of America, ‘nothing fit to eat, not a piece of 
good roast beef or a bit of sweet butter.’ They are 
never seen without monocle, gloves, and cane, and often 
with a straw hat in November. They probably mean 
weU, but their manners are shocking and uncivil, and 
they are inclined to think if they pay well everything 
is right they do.” 

“Dear Amily, how you talk! You must not judge 
them all by the few who have gone over to marry for 
money.” 

“Well, anyway, if the English tourists in America 
were a little more courteous in their behavior it would 
be appreciated and would earn for them a better repu- 
tation,” answered Amily. 

“Yes, dear,” said Lady Freelanhisen, “I admit a lot 
of what you say is true. I am afraid the feeling of 
caste wiU never entirely be eradicated from the Eng- 
lish race. The contempt of the upper middle class 
for the working class is terribly evident to the ob- 
server who stays some time in England, and most of 
them class the Americans with the working class. 
They make their money in trade, you know. Don’t 
let us follow this subject further. You are almost 
ill and should go to your room and let Cross give 
you a mustard footbath.” 

A few days later, when the train left Redich for 
London, Amily stood on the step of the coach holding 
the hand of Lady Freelanhisen, promising to write 
back every single day. 

“Don’t miss me too much,” she said. “I will be 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


249 


back before you have had time to miss me, and John 
Boxley and his sister have promised me to be with you 
as often as possible.” 

When she arrived in London, Captain Miller, Charles 
Renselear and Lord Douglas were at the station. 
When she saw her lover her heart seemed to be about 
to leap out of her body, her dark eyes sparkled, and 
the firm scarlet lips were compressed to try to hide 
some of the joy she felt. Oh, the exquisite, intense 
calm of her spirit when she looked into his eyes, sadder 
than she had ever seen them! 

Charles was full of talk, telling her all the places 
they had gone and how they all had missed her, and, 
familiarly taking her hand, said: “You must ride by 
me to punish you for being a ‘piker.’ ” 

The conversation became general and when the big 
auto stopped in front of the hotel Mrs. Miller and 
baby Mary Miller were there to greet her. She caught 
the little girl out of the nurse’s arms and kissed her 
repeatedly. When she was shown her room, next to 
the Millers’ suite, she saw they had given her the pret- 
tiest corner, and she saw on her dresser the most ex- 
quisite bowl of beautiful white roses. On a table was 
a bowl of violets and on another some American beau- 
ties and a large expensive box of confections. 

Amily knew who had put the white roses there, and 
also, without looking for a card, that Banderwelt had 
sent the red roses and the candy. Charles had sent 
the big bunch of beautiful double Palmer violets. She 
sat down by the white roses to fully enjoy them. She 
pulled one of the prettiest and pressed it to her lips, 
saying to herself: “This rose begins to feel me, to 
grow warm and lithe under my kiss — like Pygmalion’s 
stone. His dear hands have held it as he thought of 


250 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


me. How can it but respond if I have its exquisite 
inner-self speaking through my lips?” She prayed: 
“God bless his dear life, spare him sorrow.” She rose 
and dressed for dinner, and as she would meet the whole 
party then she took extra pains in making her toilet. 
She had finished dressing when Mrs. Miller came in 
the room and, seeing all the flowers, exclaimed: 

“Oh, my dear Amily, what a popular young lady you 
are I I know who sent those grand American beauties. 
He thought they would remind you of home, and please 
you.” 

Mrs. Miller saw through the shifting shows of things 
to the abiding realities. Continuing, she said: “Why 
can’t you think better of poor Mr. Banderwelt? He 
worships you; he talks to me about you every single 
chance he gets. Any girl over here or at home would 
be glad to marry him, and, really, dear, you never un- 
derstood him; he is a good man. He is unfortunate 
in having a brusque manner, and people think him 
rude and purse-proud, and at times he seems blunt and 
coarse. Now he is so discouraged and disconsolate be- 
cause he loves you and you treat him so badly. Con- 
sequently you are wholly unacquainted with his dis- 
position or his peculiarities. He is very intelligent and 
refined, and you must admit he is commanding in ap- 
pearance. He could make you happy and give you 
the luxuries which money alone can purchase.” 

The bright blushes broke over Amily’s face. She 
was saved a probable scene by the appearance of Cap- 
tain Miller, who said: “We have been waiting for you 
two to go in to dinner. You must have been having 
a private confab. Amily really looks guilty.” 

When they met the others of the party in the par- 
lor they were grouped about talking of the things to 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


251 


do and the places to see before going to Chenang the 
next day. Le Comte had boxes at the opera for the 
whole party and they were aU ready to go from the 
dinner table. 

Banderwelt saw that Amily wore only a single big 
white rose in her hair and another at her breast. He 
scowled and thought: ‘‘She wears the flowers sent her 
by her English lord. She is like the rest of my fool 
countrywomen, she prefers a crown to my love and 
money.” He ground his teeth and drew in his lips, 
saying: “When he has read her pedigree and flnds out 
that she has a skeleton in the family closet and is as 
poor as a beggar he will not be so ardent, and will drop 
the poor little idiot, and she will gladly fly to my arms 
yet.” 

At dinner Amily had to sit next to Banderwelt, on 
her left, with Lord Douglas on her right. As din- 
ner progressed he talked to her in the most matter-of- 
course way and she answered in monosyllables, never 
looking at him once. Lord Douglas chatted so charm- 
ingly to her on one side that she could seem not to 
hear half of his low remarks to her. 

When they were ready to go to the Royal Opera, 
Covent Garden, to hear Melba in “La Boheme,” in Eng- 
lish, Lord Douglas was helping Amily in his car and 
Banderwelt, pretending to hold the door of the car 
open to spare her gown said: “Won’t you sit by me in 
the box.? I wish to deliver a message from your friend, 
Dunbar Warfleld, whom I met while we were in Berlin, 
you know.” 

She looked into those cold, steely eyes, which showed 
no heart, no feeling, only desire, and she wondered how 
this man could talk of love. What did such a nature 
know of that sacred word, love, as she understood it.?* 


252 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


She did not answer him. His car drove up and she saw 
his cynical smile as he helped Miss Colgate in. 

As they were taking their seats in the different boxes 
Banderwelt said to Lord Douglas in the most authori- 
tative manner: “If you please, I wish to sit by Miss 
Freelanhisen the first act, as I have a message from 
one of her best male friends.” He said this with a 
meaning, wicked twinkle in-his eyes for Lord Douglas’ 
benefit. 

Amily gave Lord Douglas a beseeching, pleading 
look, which he read and, turning, he said with a gentle 
smile: “Please be brief, as I too have a message for 
her from the same gentleman. He has left London 
for America with deep regrets at not seeing his true 
friend before he was obliged to go.” 

“Oh, do hurry back and tell me about Dunbar War- 
field, as I know it is he you are talking about. I am 
so sorry he had to go without coming to see me,” said 
Amily. 

When they were all seated Banderwelt leaned to- 
ward Amily and began telling her what Warfield had 
said, also telling all he did for him and what he 
had promised to do for him in New York. She did 
not pay the slightest attention to him or to what he 
said, and when he had repeated all he could think of 
about Dunbar Warfield and still there was no sound 
in answer, he could stand her silence no longer. 

So he said: “I did this because I thought it would 
please you.” But still there was no response. “I 
should at least expect you would be grateful.” 

Amily might have been deaf and dumb for all he 
got out of her. He was furious, and when he saw 
Lord Douglas returning, he said: “I see you are put 
out to lose one moment of your golden opportunity to 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


253 


hag your game. Yes, he has a title, but very little to 
sustain it. Be careful, little woman. You are clever, 
I know, but you might lose him yet.” 

Making Banderwelt no response, Amily turned to 
Lord Douglas with a smile. “You have stayed so long, 
and I am so impatient to hear your news.” 

Banderwelt bowed himself out and she soon forgot 
his insolence as the tender notes came to her like flower 
buds expanding into flowers under the sweet rain olf 
the accompaniment. 

Her thoughts were: “Kind Heaven, my head and 
heart are full. I am weighed down with great love, and 
my heart leaped with fear when he told me I might 
lose my love. I wonder if it is wasted energy to solilo- 
quize as one feels. I think it clears the brain and helps 
me to think intelligently. My poor brain needs clear- 
ing, for I find myself repeating mentally one question 
over and over: ‘Will he find out for himself and still 
love me.?’ I must now come back to earth and the reali- 
zation that there are bitter dregs in my cup of happi- 
ness. I must go on, on, smiling, exchanging common- 
place remarks with people just as though for me there 
is no inward bitterness and worry. It seems so 
prosaic.” 

As the curtain dropped on the last act Lord Doug- 
las bade her good-night, promising to go with her alone 
in his runabout to the station and occupy the same 
compartment with her. He looked into her face and 
said: “Are you not well.? You are pale, and once 
or twice I saw a shadow of trouble or pain across 
your dear face. Tell all your little worries to me, my 
own darling, and I will dispell them.” 

The next day the party arrived at the station to Le 
Comte’s preserves on time, and found carriages, bug- 


254 < 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


gies, autos, and other kinds of vehicles to meet them. 
It was a short two miles to Chenang, and some of the 
party walked, as the day was so fine. They had time 
to rest and get installed before lunch. 

Amily’s room was next to the Millers’, and it truly 
was a little gem of a nest, so dainty, bright, and pretty. 
It was built and furnished for some young pretty crea- 
ture evidently. She was extremely pleased, and called 
Mrs. Miller to see how beautifully she was placed, as 
the English say. 

She and Mrs. Miller stood looking out on the most 
beautiful lawn and Amily said to her friend : “Was there 
ever a woman who in her inmost heart did not long 
to live in a house set in the shelter of beautiful trees 
surrounded by rolling, sweet-smelling gardens Is this 
not as beautiful as the mind could picture.?” 

“Yes, dear, but you have not seen how beautiful it 
is yet. Wait till you have seen the view towards the 
sea.” 

They had changed from their traveling garments and 
were ready for lunch and to be presented to the house- 
hold. They were first presented to the Countess Angla 
Beamer, the maiden sister of Le Comte, then to a 
brother much younger, whom he called Sales, and also 
to an aunt and her young lady daughter, Mrs. and 
Miss Belle Turner. These, with the Americans, made 
quite a large house party. Besides there were some 
young men who were in for lunchon, who were staying 
at the neighboring estates. 

It seemed that all the rest of the party had met on 
the lawn before going to their apartments except the 
Millers and Amily. Some of them scarcely acknowl- 
edged the introduction to Amily, others slightly in- 
clining their heads. They gave her some cold, hard 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


255 


stares. She felt the chill of the reception, still she was 
not embarrassed or ill at ease. 

The host was genial and very hospitable, and soon 
put everyone at ease, telling the men that they would 
ride about the preserves and get the lay of the shooting 
to-morrow. 

“My keeper tells me the birds are fat and plentiful,” 
he said, and, turning to his sister, smilingly said: 
“Angla, you will see that the ladies have their rest 
and they can amuse themselves as suits them best. I 
see it is clouding up and looks like a drizzle; that is 
all the better for bird driving.” 

After lunch the party dispersed in their several ways. 
Some of the women were already seated in the card- 
room at bridge, and most of the men were out looking 
at their mounts for the afternoon ride. 

Lord Douglas was sitting with Miss Orr, Miss Col- 
gate, Miss Fay, and two Englishmen of the party. 
Sales Beamer walked with Amily to the front veranda 
and they sat on the steps, talking. He was very amus- 
ing and asked absurd questions about her country. He 
said he knew quite a lot about America, “don’t you 
know.” 

“My brother Batas has been entertained over there 
a lot by your millionaires. He has told me about how 
new everything is and, ’pon me soul, I fear I should 
feel new meself.” 

He became very confidential, telling her he was a 
younger brother and didn’t count, “Hang it all,” and 
that “rarely” he was thinking seriously of going over 
and marrying a millionairess. “You know I am only 
an earl, but Bat says that is good for ten or twelve 
millions, and you see I am not bad-looking, by Jove!” 

Amily laughed at him, he was so in earnest, and 


256 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


seemed to think that all he had to do was to go over 
and announce himself an earl and that the millionair- 
esses would come flocking. 

“My sister Angla is old-fashioned sort. She tells 
me to save me few pounds that it would take to fetch 
me over and stay and take care of Bat’s places and 
her. She says she caun’t abide the new Americans, 
and tells me to look at our men who have gone over 
and brought back rich wives — the fuss and scandal 
they bring back with ’em. I spunked up and said to 
look at the beastly way our titled men had treated 
them, spending their money and running about just 
the same, don’t you know. I was for taking the part 
of the American girls. I shall be decent to one when 
I get one with plenty of money. I should be good for 
ten million, or eight at least, because I would give up 
a very fine girl to go over.” 

“Oh, you mean your sweetheart.^ How could you 
weigh her in the balance with gold.^” said Amily. 

“ ’Pon my soul, I think she has the sense to under- 
stand. She knows now we are too poor to be mar- 
ried, and we should be good friends always, don’t you 
know. It is perfect rot, all about sentiment. Miss Free- 
lanhisen. It is a maxim of mine to do without the 
rubbish of an over-abundant amount of love. What’s 
the use, don’t you know?” 

Amily laughed, and the young man thought she was 
entertained by his smartness and cleverness. “I will 
give him a big shock,” she thought to herself, “maybe 
stoppage of the heart.” So she said: “Really, I have 
enjoyed hearing how you will go over and capture one 
of my rich American sisters ; but all interesting things 
must end. I have some work that I must attend to for 
a while each day while I am here. I took some lace- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


257 


work to do for a shop in London. I have been work- 
ing every day since I came over. You know I am poor 
and work at lace-mending for my living.” 

“No, by Jove, I did not know I I thought you were 
fabulously rich, and that Lord Douglas had caught 
you.” 

She blushed deeply and said: “You are very frank, 
my Lord, Sir, Majesty, or what ought I to call you.^ 
We Americans always say Mr. when in doubt.” 

“Well, me intimates call me Sales, and others of 
course give me me title — Earl Sales Beamer.” 

“Do you live here on this estate.?” asked Amily. 

“Well, yes, most of the time. I have a little shoot- 
ing box of me own farther down the coast. I am not 
rich enough to keep it well up. Some of me cousins and 
friends drop in for some fine shooting in the season, 
and they put up and take pot-luck. Sometimes we are 
a jolly lot. Bat always brings his own brand of 
wine and cigars. Sometimes we are pretty gay, I 
tell you. No females about, don’t you know.” 

“You don’t mean you indulge in strong drink.?” 
she said, her eyes sparkling with fun. 

“Wal, yes, rother,” he answered. 

She parted from him and ran to her room to laugh. 
She could hold in no longer. She laughed till the tears 
ran down her cheeks. 

She found in her room some mail, which had preceded 
her and had just been sent to her. There was a letter 
from her brother Tao and also one from her Cousin 
Mary. She read Tao’s letter first. His letters were 
always short and to the point, and Amily always in- 
dulged in a fit of blues after reading one of his short, 
practical letters, which gave no sign of the strong, deep 
afifection he cherished for her. 


258 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


In this letter he lectured her well and inclosed a 
good-sized check, telling her that his pride forbade 
him letting her be dependent on rich friends. There 
was some gratification in knowing that she was an 
object of interest to him at all. 

“Jane has told Tao about Lord Douglas wanting me 
to marry him, and that makes him generous,” she 
sighed. “He thinks of his family pride.” 

She put the check away, wrapped a gray, rough 
cloak around her and drew the hood over her loose hair. 
She started out to the beach. Everyone else had dis- 
appeared. As she neared the sands her delicate nos- 
trils dilated with the pleasure of breathing the salt 
wind. 

It was growing damper and the wind was blowing 
the fog inland. She stood watching a poor little ves- 
sel way out in the distance. 

“You like it, don’t you.^” said a voice near her. 

She turned, to meet the soft eyes of the lovely, sweet 
face of a queer-looking individual. He was neither 
boy nor man. He had a young, pretty face with a 
misshapen body, and his legs were bowed, his back 
humped, and one foot was much smaller than the other. 
Amily was not frightened, as the calm, delicate face won 
her confidence, and at once entered into conversation 
with her new acquaintance. After she had talked to 
him a while she thought: “He has the gayety of a boy 
with the knowledge of a man; a gentle heart, but such 
a sensitive nature.” 

“I know you must be Miss Freelanhisen,” he said, 
“because I have heard the men talking of you. They 
say you came over with your pretty face and millions 
to bag a title, and you have already hit your mark 
and caught a lord. Well, I am glad you caught the 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


259 


right one, for I like you and I like Lord Douglas. He 
is a true brick, sure, and he treats me just like he does 
the rest of our house. I say ‘our house,’ because I am 
of it, but not in it.” 

“Tell me who you are,” said Amily. “You have 
guessed that I am Amily Freelanhisen. The men you 
heard talking of me made quite a mistake when they 
think I am a millionairess and that I came to catch 
a title. I was very much prejudiced against the Eng- 
lish when I came over. I came to see the home of my 
father, who was English and lived at Redich. I still 
think the English are a cold, seemingly hard, and im- 
polite people, with due respect to the memory of my 
father. He ran away and went to America and never 
cared to see his own country again. Which one of 
the queens in history said: ‘Would I had never trod 
this English earth or felt the flatteries that grow upon 
it’.?” 

Her new-found friend said that that was Queen Kath- 
erine of Aragon, and that she had also said: “What 
will become of me, now, wretched lady.? I am the most 
unhappy woman living. Also, poor wretches, where 
are now your fortunes.? Shipwrecked upon a kingdom 
with no pity, no friends, no hope, no kindred to weep 
for me. Almost no grave allowed me. Like the lily 
that once was mistress of the fleld and flourished. I’ll 
hang my head and perish.” 

“I see you know the history of your country,” said 
Amily. “I am showing bad form myself to speak to 
you so disparagingly of your people. Excuse me, but 
you do not talk or look like the English.” 

“That’s because I have lived here so little,” he an- 
swered. “Before I was born my mother was sent to 
the south of France. After her death I was taken from 


260 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


one place to another, and at last to Budapest. Then 
eight years ago my father died and acknowledged me 
as his son and gave me a small allowance, stipulating 
that I should live at Chenang. I live in the east wing. 
I have a small apartment, and one old servant.” 

“Then am I to understand you are Le Comte Batus 
Beamer’s brother asked Amily. 

“I am his illegitimate brother. I am supposed to 
keep out of sight, especially away from visitors. I go 
about with the men, but Angla has a perfect antipathy 
to me, and she cannot stand to see me. She says it 
gives her the creeps — she hates me. But dear old Bat 
is good and the biggest-hearted Beamer that ever lived. 
He treats me like a prince when he is here, which is 
rarely.” 

“I see you have a fine education,” said Amily. 

“Yes,” he answered. “I was sent to Oxford for 
my finishing. My governor tried to do the right thing 
as far as he could at the last.” 

“And your mother?” 

“I never knew her. She died a few hours after she 
gave me birth.” 

Big tears came into Amily’s eyes, and he saw them. 
He caught her hand and held it, saying: “Won’t you 
be my friend? I never had a woman or girl friend.” 

“Yes,” said Amily, “I will be your staunch friend.” 

“Your tears have shown me your true and tender 
heart,” said he, “and your eyes are the most beauti- 
ful I have ever seen, especially with that teardrop on 
the black fringe of your lashes. I know the angels in 
heaven shed such tears of pity for sinners here iDelow. 
I know that blessed tear was for pity for my deformed 
body. Don’t pity me, but love and trust me. I don’t 
mind my deformity now. I used to be rebellious at col- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


S61 


lege when I would see the other finely developed fel- 
lows, and have to be shoved out of their way and set 
back, but that made me a better student.” 

“I don’t see your lameness,” gently returned Amily, 
“but your big, fine, well-developed mind. I will tell 
you that I like you, and trust you more than anyone 
except one other. Some day when we know each other 
better I will tell you all about him.” 

As they had talked the fog had thickened until it 
was almost a rain. “Your coat is damp and nearly 
wet,” said he. “I have not thought of your comfort, 
and have kept you talking in this dampness. If you 
catch cold I can never forgive myself.” 

“Never fear. I am strong and well and used to out- 
door life at home in the Ozarks of the United States. 
I will tell you about it some day.” 

They started back through the fog to Chenang. 
When they got near the house he said : 

“I will leave you here. I am never seen on this side.” 

“I will see you at dinner, won’t 1.?” said Amily. 

“No, I am sorry to say that I dine in my own apart- 
ment when there are visitors. I don’t mind that,” he 
said, seeing a little frown come into her face. “I am 
averse to meeting strangers, too. I don’t know what 
drew me to you. I saw you and was about to turn 
away when I caught your eyes and they seemed to in- 
vite an acknowledgment.” 

“I am so glad that my eyes have that power, to 
draw good and true friends. I think I must have that 
instinct, as disagreeable people usually give me a wide 
berth. When will I see you again 

“Soon, I hope,” he said. “I don’t hunt, as I can- 
not ride well, and walk worse. I hobble about the 


262 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


preserves and I have a funny little, low buckboard car- 
riage that I drive my pony to.” 

“Can two ride in it?” Amily asked. “Won’t you 
drive me about some time and show me this beautiful 
place?” 

“Would you go with me?” he said. 

“It would give me the greatest pleasure,” she an- 
swered. “You know we have sworn friendship, and 
I want to see as much of you as I can in the very short 
time I shall be here. This is the most beautiful place 
I have laid eyes on in England.” 

“The house is very old and was built centuries ago, — 
I believe by a Beamer who had to leave Spain, — and 
he made this a kind of stronghold. There are many 
secret passages and chambers and also a dungeon. 
Some parts have been added to and changed. The 
left wing was built in my father’s time, so of course 
it is modern. The Beamers are Spanish and have hold- 
ings there. Batus has a palace near Madrid. He 
took me with him once ; it is beautiful and picturesque. 
I will tell you about the pictures and other treasures 
there when we have a chance to meet again.” 

She left him, going to her room without seeing any- 
one. As she passed Mrs. Miller’s room she tapped on 
the door and, going in, found Mrs. Miller in the midst 
of her dinner toilet. 

“Where have you been?” she asked. “You will 
scarcely have time to dress for dinner.” 

“Oh, it doesn’t take me long to make my toilet. You 
know a short horse is easily curried.” 

“You always make pretty toilets, anyway, so don’t 
come the Flora McFlimsey act. I won’t believe you.” 

“I wish I had time to tell you about my walk to 
the beach in the fog. It was delicious,” said Amily. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“I don’t care for fog and misty, damp beaches, so I 
would not agree with you. Run along and make your- 
self more beautiful, if possible, than you are now, with 
your face flushed and your hair flying damp about your 
face, and that old, gray, gypsy cloak. Where on earth 
did you resurrect it.? Out of some gypsy camp.?” 

‘‘It was at the bottom of my trunk. I had it in the 
Ozarks to wear in bad weather to school, which was 
two miles away.” 

“It becomes you, anyway. I think you must have 
some gypsy blood in your veins, you are so bohemian 
in your ways and fancies. But run along or you will 
be late, and I hear that Countess Angla is very punc- 
tilious and expects her guests to be prompt.” 

“I will hurry,” said Amily. “She is critical and 
severe, I have seen at our first meeting, so I will don 
my best attire and best behavior.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


When Amilj, with the Millers, went below to the 
drawing-room most of the other guests were assem- 
bled. Despite her self-control she could not keep down 
the deep blushes she knew her face showed, for she felt 
the cold, critical stare of those mercenary English 
women. She knew they looked on her as a usurper and 
adventurer. 

Lady Mack motioned to Amily to sit by her. Her 
Ladyship held a forlorn-looking fellow in tow, who 
seemed to be wiggling to get away. Presenting Amily, 
Lady Mack said: “I want you to know Sir Henry; he 
is one of my pets.” 

The fellow, turning a monocled eye upon Amily, grew 
as red as a lobster and stuttered and stammered, finally 
saying : “Lady Amily, I am pleased to know you. Jove ! 
I have met so few from the other side, don’t you know.” 

He was so fat about the eyes that his monocle just 
would not stay in place, and kept falling out of his 
squinted eye. Once or twice when it fell out Amily 
could scarcely refrain from picking it up and placing 
it firmly in his fat eye for him. Sir Henry was so 
fat and mushy-looking that he reminded Amily of the 
fat doll pin-cushions she used to make for church 
bazaars. She kept thinking she would love to stick a 
pin in his pudgy cheek to hear it pop like when she 
stuck pins in the fat doll. 

The Countess Angla assigned Amily to Sir Henry, 
264 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


265 


and of course Lord Douglas to Miss Orr. Captain 
Miller took in Lady Mack. Amily was glad she had 
Mr. Plimpton from New York on her other side. He 
talked to her all through dinner, to the discomfort 
of a large, red English grandee who was very learned — 
a blue-stocking. But Amily thought that was a mis- 
nomer; that it should have been “red,” she being red 
and gowned in bright red, showing a lot of fat, red 
neck and shoulders. She was very haughty, and Mr. 
Plimpton found it hard to follow the jargon of thought 
transference, psychic influence, telepathy, and so on. 
It was almost unintelligible to poor Plimpton. 

They all were glad when that first formal course 
dinner was done. When the wines were served Amily’s 
glass was turned down. Some of the ladies seemed to 
think it very bad form, though a number of the Eng- 
lishmen thought otherwise, as some of the women drink 
at dinner till they are very red, and then they talk loud 
and long. One girl was talking about Parliament, 
wireless telegraphy, and such things, of which she knew 
absolutely nothing. 

When they assembled in the drawing-room a num- 
ber went to have their coffee in the Turkish room, 
others remaining in the dining-room. Lord Douglas 
led Amily to a cozy corner and said : “My darling, this 
is the first moment I have had a chance to speak a 
private word with you.” 

“I have tried to talk to you with my eyes,” said 
Amily. 

“My darling, your eyes do speak a language to my 
heart. I was so impatient all through that long, tire- 
some dinner. I thought it would never end. Tell me 
about Lady Freelanhisen. Is she well? I am expect- 
ing an answer to a letter which I wrote her about our 


S66 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


trip to Monte Carlo with the rest of the party. You 
know you said you would go if your cousin gave her 
consent.” 

“I should love to go, and Mrs. Miller says she will 
not go unless I go, too.” 

“You could not break up the party,” said Lord 
Douglas. 

“No; I wish to go to be with you, for I feel we will 
soon be parted for good,” said Amily. 

“Don’t say such a terrible thing. I shall find out 
the thing that stands between us and dispel it, no 
matter what it is. I will not let anything stand in the 
way of my future happiness.” 

They were talking so low and confidential they did 
not hear Banderwelt and Miss Orr. Banderwelt was 
halfway making love to Miss Orr, because he thought 
she expected it. He could talk to her in that low 
strain and at the same time watch Douglas and Amily. 
He did not have Miss Ophelia Orr’s attention any more 
than she had his. She was watching Lord Douglas, 
whom she had loved from her earliest girlhood. That 
is, she loved him in her selfish way, and more than she 
could ever really love anyone else. 

She had made up her mind that if she lost Douglas 
she would catch the next best, the millionaire Ameri- 
can, and she had planned with his money and her po- 
sition to lord it over Amily and make her suffer in 
a hundred ways. She was one of those natures that 
live and love to hate. Hate is their guiding star, 
hate their religion, their everything. When the sun 
shined she hated that; when the rain came she hated 
that. She hated the heavy perfume of the flowers ; she 
said they made her sick. She despised little children, 
and had a perfect antipathy to dogs, and only tol- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 




crated cats. The one thing she seemed to really care 
for was a very old parrot. She had taught it to 
talk, and it had all her ill-naturad moods. She had 
taught it French and Spanish, and the thing could 
swear in three languages. At her home it was her con- 
stant companion in private. 

Glancing over at Amily, Miss Orr now said to Ban- 
derwelt: “She is working overtime to catch a lord,” 
and she laughed, showing a row of pure pearl teeth, 
white as snow, pointed at the edge like the teeth of a 
wildcat. 

Miss Orr’s eyes could sparkle like flame when she was 
wrought up, and with her hair, black as jet and 
straight, her brow broad and white, she was a com- 
manding figure. 

“Cleopatra must have looked like Miss Orr,” re- 
marked Amily to Lord Douglas. “She reminds me of 
some tragedy queen chiseled out of stone. She hates 
me and she loves you, if a heart of stone can love.” 

“She is a great beauty,” answered Douglas, “but of 
a stamp that one can never love. We have been 
friends from our cradles, I have always humored her 
whims and looked on her as a spoiled child-woman. 
She has always commanded me about. My aunt took 
a great fancy to her and always expected me to show 
her places, and as I was not in love, and not caring 
especially for anyone, I was glad to take her about. 
She is handsome and showy and always agreeable to 
me.” 

“She loves you,” said Amily. “Anyone can see that, 
and she is trying all her powers to part us. She has 
influenced your aunt. I can see a slight change in 
her feeling for me. I am a sort of sensitive plant; I 
can feel things where other people have to see them.” 


268 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“I think you are mistaken about her being in love 
with me,” said Lord Douglas. “I think she has lost 
her heart to Mr. Banderwelt, and he has shown her 
marked attention ever since they have known each 
other. Well, let’s not waste these precious moments 
discussing those two people. Come for a walk. The 
fog has dispersed, — or would you prefer to dance 
They are dancing already.” 

“No, I don’t care to dance,” Amily answered. 

“Then let’s walk in the moonlight towards the beach.’^ 

The low land extended east and west, with the wav- 
ing grass above the sand, and one mile inland stood 
the buildings on a knoll sloping down to the ever- 
moaning sea. Hundreds of acres of wooded land ran 
back. This was one of the largest and handsomest 
estates in England. 

They walked on and passed other members of the 
house party strolling in the moonlight. Suddenly 
Amily stopped and said: “Right here is the very spot 
I met the strangest person. I was going to say man, 
but he was that only in mind; neither was he a boy. 
He was most interesting, and I have wanted to tell you 
about him. I have made a friend of him. I should call 
him a dwarf.” 

“Oh, I know who you mean,” said Lord Douglas. 
“How did you ever happen to meet Roy Gerald.^ He 
is rarely ever seen by visitors.” 

“So he told me,” answered Amily. “I took a stroll 
in the fog alone out here while the men were inspecting 
the preserves and the ladies resting or playing bridge. 
I was watching the big waves break on the sand and 
thought myself alone till a sweet voice said at my ear, 
‘You like it, don’t you.^’ He seemed to know me, and 
I answered as if we were friends and had only parted 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


269 


from each other hours back. He won my confidence 
and respect, then my pity, though he does not like 
pity, and I tried not to let him see how sorry I was 
for him. He seems to have suffered a great deal. He 
read my thoughts as one would an open book. Poor 
dear I we swore friendship forever.” 

“You had best not mention him to anyone, as I think 
they do not recognize him as a connection, although 
he is a half brother to the countess and dear old Bat, 
who is really fond of Roy. He has a fine mind and we 
are staunch friends. He is with me in my apartments 
most of the time when I am here.” 

“I am so glad,” said Amily, “because I am crazy 
about him; he is such a dear.” 

“Are you not afraid I shall get jealous of Roy.^” 
asked Lord Douglas. 

“No, not in the least afraid,” answered Amily. “We 
understand each other too well for that.” 

He took her hand in his and pressed the palm to 
his lips, saying: “My precious pearl, you know I sim- 
ply cannot live without you. Won’t you marry me? 
I don’t want to know your secret. You are all I 
think you are, and it is your own pure self I want. 
Not all the secrets in the world can make me give 
you up.” 

“Do not urge me, Richard. I am absurdly, wretch- 
edly unhappy when I see your dear face sad. I know 
you love me, dear, yet I could not accept my happi- 
ness at the cost of dishonoring you. Could I delib- 
erately do this.J’ There is a dull weight on my poor 
heart.” 

“Darling, I know you are an angel, and whatever 
this secret maybe it is no fault of yours,” he said. 

“Richard dear, you are right,” she answered. “No 


270 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


matter how lonely and heart hungry I may become, 
I shall always strive to remember the motto which 
I have always kept in my mind : ‘Live pure, speak true, 
right wrong, follow God with good will, doing service 
in His name.’ To this I have added: ‘Love Richard 
Douglas with all my heart, soul, mind and body as 
long as I have breath to live. ” 

He caught her to his heart, holding her in his arms. 
He rained kisses on her lips, her eyes, and forehead. 
He kissed the teardrops from her lashes. There was 
no sound but the long ripple washing the reeds. They 
had no idea how long they had been there till the water 
opened out broader in vast sheets of crawling foam 
that ran up to the very bank of sand where they sat. 

“Darling,” he said, “I am keeping you too long; it 
grows chilly for you here by the sea. We had better 
return.” 

They started, and going a little way saw a tall figure 
emerge from the path, casting eager glances in all 
directions. He kept his cap well over his face and 
hurried on. Amily felt almost certain that it was Ban- 
derwelt, and she said so, but Lord Douglas thought 
the person taller than he. She was not convinced, and 
felt uneasy and a little nervous. In her heart she felt 
certain that it was he, and he was spying on her. She 
had always felt that he was watching and listening 
to her when he seemed engaged in deep conversation. 
The cold, sarcastic glitter of his eyes wounded and hu- 
miliated her. Though she never took the slightest no- 
tice of him, she could feel his eyes on her. 

Richard bade her good-night, telling Mrs. Miller that 
he put her in her charge, saying: “We stayed in this 
glorious moonlight till the clouds came and the wind 
rose, driving in the spray.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 271 

“I hope she does not have the croup, as my little 
Mary had last night,” said Mrs. Miller. 

“I am past the croup stage,” answered Amily. 

“Well, you don’t look very much past it.” 

“Thank you for the compliment, but I feel quite 
old sometimes, I assure you.” 

The music had stopped and all the guests had re- 
tired except a few bridge fiends. Captain Miller joined 
them and all went to the foot of the grand stairway. 
There they parted, Captain Miller telling his wife 
he would join her after he had another cigar on the 
balcony with Dick Douglas. 

As the two ladies passed along the upper hall to 
their apartments, Mrs. Miller said: “Amily, you look 
tired; and if I may say so, sad. What in the world 
have you that would cast a little bit of a shadow across 
your brow.^” 

“Maybe I am tired and sleepy,” Amily answered. 

“Good-night! Go to sleep at once. You know I 
have to account to your cousin for your health.” Mrs. 
Miller kissed her as she closed the door of Amily’s 
room. 

The whole party assembled at an early breakfast, 
where the men were all dressed in shooting costumes. 
The ladies of the party were to drive or go in a 
small boat down the beach to lunch with the hunters 
at two o’clock. 

There was great fun seeing the mounts, and to Amily 
it was so ludicrous to see some of the Englishmen ride. 
They were afraid of their horses, and grooms had 
to hold them at a block for them to mount. Some were 
fairly good riders, and others looked as if they had 
never been on a horse before. Sir Henry was so funny 
Amily had to laugh outright. As he wanted to show 




OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


his horsemanship he would post up and down. He 
looked fat and red, and his scarlet coat made him 
look all the redder. He was so round Amily thought 
he must roll off his horse. He rode in front of her and 
said : “ ’Pon me soul I Lady Amily, you are making sport 
of me. You cannot make fun of me calves. You know 
me friends say what a fine pair of calves I carry.” 

Amily had to laugh heartily now at this last straw! 
Lord Douglas heard the boast and joined Amily, say- 
ing: “Yes, it is conceded that Sir Henry has the best 
pair of legs in England.” 

“Now, Lady Amily,” said Sir Henry, “you see I was 
not boasting ; ’pon my soul, I was not ! Everyone says 
the same thing. Jove! I am not conceited, however, 
don’t you know.” 

When the hunters rode away the ladies all were dis- 
cussing the men, who was the best shot, and so on. 
“Miss Freelanhisen,” said Lady Mack, “my nephew 
tells me you are a fine horsewoman and also a good 
shot.” 

“I fear he flatters me about being a good shot,” 
she answered. “I have hunted some in a small way with 
my brother in the mountains of Arkansas, and I am 
a fearless rider. I love animals, especially horses and 
dogs.” 

“We have some fine dogs of the St. Bernard breed 
in our kennels,” said Lady Mack. “Some time I would 
like to show them to you.” 

“Thank you, I should love to see them,” Amily 
replied. 

“How long do you expect to remain in England.?” 

“Really, I cannot tell. My cousin. Lady Freelan- 
hisen, begs that I will remain with her as long as she 
lives; but my sister and brothers are anxious that I 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


27S 


come home in the spring, so you see I am uncertain. 
My cousin Mary is very lonely and is quite feehle this 
season with the rheumatism. I have not the heart to 
leave her alone in that lonely big Hall with only the 
servants.” 

“Your cousin and I have mutual friends, and I have 
known of her for years through them, though, strange 
to say, we have never met.” 

“I wish you could know her, she is such a noble, 
grand character.” 

“I dare say,” was Lady Mack’s only remark. 

Believing Lady Mack wished to terminate the con- 
versation, Amily said: “I think you will wish to rest 
before your long ride to lunch with the hunters, and I, 
will not detain you longer. I see all the other ladies 
have gone to their apartments now.” 

“I will see you then at lunch down the beach,” said 
Lady Mack. 

Amily did not acquiesce. She went to her room and 
put on her short gray skirt, heavy shoes, and her tam- 
o’-shanter cap, and started up the beach for a long 
tramp. As she passed through the court she gave 
a shrill whistle and was immediately joined by a large, 
beautiful, fierce staghound, a savage, repulsive crea- 
ture who had taken a great fancy to her and fol- 
lowed her whenever she went outside the house. She 
called him to her now, patting his head and calling 
him, “dear old Boaz.” 

“We will have a fine tramp together old fellow,” she 
said. 

As Amily went along the beach she would throw 
pieces of bark and sticks in the sea to see Boaz rush 
into the foamy waves and retrieve, when she would have 
to pull the stick out of his great jaws. When Boaz 


274 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


would start to run a poor little rabbit Amily would 
stamp her feet and call him back, and he would mind 
like a child. She would then talk to him, because he 
was so intelligent she felt that he understood her every 
motion. 

Amily had no idea how far she had gone, but feel- 
ing tired she looked for a good place among the beach 
thistles that grew along that part of the beach where 
she might rest. Boaz was farther on, baying at some- 
thing under a clump of these same thistles. The dog 
seemed so much in earnest that Amily went to where 
he was, and when she came nearer she saw something 
that looked like a person crouched down in the tall 
growth. 

The dog was barking furiously, and she called : 
“Boaz, old boy, good dog, come to me!” When she 
called the dog off, Amily heard a groan, and going 
closer she saw a man in a quicksand sinking slowly. He 
was to his armpits and was exhausted from calling for 
help, so weak he could scarcely utter a sound above a 
groan. 

Appreciating the danger Amily went closer to the 
man and spoke to him, saying: “Courage. You are 
sinking so slowly I can go for help before you are 
submerged much farther.” 

The man rolled his eyes at her and said he would 
be able to hold out if she could get some brush to throw 
in for him to place his arms over. Amily ran about, 
but could not find any brush, so she pulled an armful 
of the thistles and, rolling them in her jacket, threw 
them to the man, telling him to hold to them and 
they would retard his sinking. 

As he turned his terror-stricken face towards her 
Amily thought: “He is a villain of unfathomable in- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 275 

famy. His cowardly fear of death makes his coun- 
tenance diabolical.” 

However, she encouraged him, telling him she would 
run and bring help. She ran till she was almost out 
of breath, and the big dog ran by her side, yelping 
and barking at every jump. When she was almost 
in sight of the house she heard someone driving and 
clucking to a horse, and at a sharp turn in the road 
she met Roy Gerald in his buckboard, with his little 
shotgun laid across his lap. Seeing Amily he stopped, 
and was about to get out to meet her, but she mo- 
tioned for him to wait for her. Her cheeks were 
flushed from the run, her hair was blowing about her 
face, and her eyes were bright as stars. 

She hurriedly told him her errand, and said : “I found 
Mr. Banderwelt’s man in a quicksand, and he is sinking 
every moment. I came to find help.” 

“You wait here and I will drive back and get a stable 
man to come and help him,” said Roy. “There must 
be one about, though most of them have gone to the 
hunt to look after the horses at lunch time. Why are 
you not there.?” 

“We will talk about that when you come back with 
help,” she said, and Roy rode off. Amily sat on a 
stump of a tree till she saw Roy with two men com- 
ing. She ran to meet them, telling them to go as fast 
as they could before it was too late. 

The men took the buckboard and drove as fast as 
they could, while she and Roy walked slowly, as Roy 
could not walk fast. “The men can save him,” said 
Roy. “It is no use for you to walk back.” 

“Yes, but I am so afraid he has perished I cannot 
stop. I must go; maybe I can do something to help 
them.” 


^76 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


They walked on, and when they came to the quick- 
sand the men had just rescued Banderwelt’s man. He 
was very weak from fear and straining. 

‘T am glad you got to him in time to save his life,” 
said Amily. Her jacket filled with thistles had kept 
him up till the men had come. 

The poor, miserable coward had been sent by Ban- 
derwelt to spy on Amily and had meant to hide in 
the thick growth of sea thistles when he got into the 
bed of quicksand and was up to his arms almost be- 
fore he realized what had happened to him. He made 
a miserable attempt to thank her for saving his life. 

“Don’t thank me,” she said; “I would have done the 
same for Boaz, the hound.” 

One of the men then drove the miserable wretch back 
in Roy’s buckboard. As they rode away, turning 
to Roy, Amily said: “We need not hurry now, as it 
is too late for me to meet the hunters at lunch. You 
know I expected to walk on down the beach and meet 
the party. The other ladies were to go by boat and 
carriages. I thought the walk would be great, and 
had started up the beach a way when old Boaz found 
Mr. Banderwelt’s man, so I tried to help him, and you 
know the rest. I have had quite an experience this 
forenoon — one I sha’n’t forget. When I first came on 
the beach I sat down behind a bank of sand and was 
watching the white caps and thinking myself alone 
when I was surprised to hear my name called in the 
most sarcastic manner by two lady guests. Miss Orr 
and Miss Chamberlain. I was ridiculed and de- 
nounced as a poor American upstart, an interloper who 
had ridden on the shoulders of dear Mr. Banderwelt into 
good society far above my position in life. I was 
pronounced an avaricious schemer intent on thrust- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


m 

ing mjself upon Le Comte Batas Beamer’s notice with 
the intent of marrying him for his title and wealth. 
I was so amused.” 

“Who is Miss Orr.?” said Roy. 

“She is a very handsome English girl whose fa- 
ther is quite prominent in Parliament, I heard. She 
is a great friend of Lady Mack and Lord Douglas. 
She seems to have a perfect antipathy for me.” 

Changing the subject, Roy said: “You love scenery 
so, do you love pictures, too.^ I have some very fine 
ones of the sea and this beach. I wish you could see 
them. I know you cannot come to my apartments 
when I am in, but if you would really care to see 
them I will get Richard Douglas to get up some in- 
terest in the pictures in that wing, and he, with some 
others, can bring you. I will manage to be out. You 
know I am not recognized by the family as a connec- 
tion. I am only a protege of Bat’s.” 

“Well, I will tell you this,” said Amily. “You are 
the very nicest Englishman I ever met, and the very 
smartest.” Then she blushed and, hanging her head, 
added: “With one or two exceptions.” 

The wind had gotten around to the east and it was 
growing cold and dismal. Her jacket, wet and muddy, 
she had sent back in the buckboard. 

Noticing that she shivered in the bleak air, Roy said: 
“You are cold; we had better go back. I am selfish. 
These out-door meetings are my only chance to see 
you, and it has been the greatest pleasure I have 
had for ever so long, to meet a true, good, frank com- 
rade and friend. You tell me you are going to Monte 
Carlo at the end of the week with the party.?” 

“Yes, my Cousin Mary wrote to Mrs. Miller giving 
her consent, and the Millers say they will break up the 


278 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


party if I do not accompany them. Yet I hope to 
see you many times before we go, and when I go back 
to Freelanhisen Hall I want you to come and spend a 
fortnight with us. You would fall in love with my 
Cousin Mary, she is such a dear, so good, kind, and 
motherly.” 

“Nothing in the world would give me such pleasure,” 
he said. 

“Then I will count on your coming sure,” she said. 


CHAPTER XXIV 


When Amily went inside the outdoors seemed dreary 
in comparison with the genial atmosphere of the cozy, 
luxurious library, where the vases and flower bowls 
were filled with fresh hothouse flowers. Splendid sim- 
plicity and elegance were combined here. On the walls 
hung beautiful pictures by the old masters. 

She took a book and sat near a window reading when 
all at once she was startled by Lord Douglas, who 
stood by her. 

“Where have you been.?” he said. “I have looked 
for you aU forenoon. They were all through lunch 
and still there was no sign of you, so I could stand 
the suspense no longer. I started back up the beach 
where I expected to find you. Instead I met Roy Ger- 
ald, and he told me what a brave little woman you 
proved yourself to be in saving the life of Mr. Ban- 
derwelt’s valet.” 

“Yes; I presume if I had not have found him when 
I did and run back for help he would have been swal- 
lowed up in the quicksand. He was gradually sinking 
and could not help himself. I took off my jacket and 
filled it with thistles and threw it to him to place his 
arms over and that retarded his sinking till I got 
help.” 

“Bless your brave heart ! you are always doing some 
good for other people. Now that we have these pre- 
cious moments to ourselves, I will renew the same sub- 
279 


280 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


ject. Promise to be my wife as soon as an answer 
comes from your brother Tao. I have sent him my 
credentials and references, and asked his consent to 
our marriage, and I have the consent of Lady Free- 
lanhisen.” 

He took a little case out of his pocket, and from it 
took out a most beautiful, pure white diamond of the 
first water. The setting of the ring was very old, so 
old that a connoisseur in such matters might wonder 
why he had chosen such a ring as the seal of his be- 
trothal. It had been his mother’s betrothal ring, and 
she had given it to him with a promise from him never 
to give it without the true love of his heart. 

Placing the ring on her finger, he told Amily she was 
the first and only woman he had ever asked to wear it. 

“I will promise never to marry another,” Amily con- 
fessed. ‘‘If you find out our family secret and still 
wish to make me your wife, I will be too happy; but I 
cannot tell you.” 

Tears came to her eyes. Lord Douglas put his arm 
around her and kissed the tears away, saying: “Never 
mind, my precious darling, I shall find it out, never 
fear, and nothing shall separate us.” 

They were surprised by a slight noise and, looking 
around, they saw someone leaving the big room at 
the far door. 

“Who could that have been.?” said Douglas. “I left 
all the guests at lunch on the beach.” 

He went to a window at the far end of the room and 
saw a tall man crossing the wide court diagonally 
to the right in the direction of the stables. He could 
not see who it was, but he thought it was like Bander- 
welt’s figure, though he could not swear it was he. 
Amily asked who it was. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


281 


He told her it looked like Banderwelt’s figure, but it 
could not be, as he was sure he left him at lunch with 
Miss Orr and Miss Fay. He remembered seeing them 
seated together as he slipped away, not wishing to 
be seen leaving before lunch. He thought he would 
not be missed. 

“I know Banderwelt followed you here,” said Amily. 
“He is spying on me everywhere I go.” 

“I know how he loves you, dear, and I feel so sorry 
for him.” 

“Richard, he has no heart, and does not deserve 
your sympathy. I believe he would do anything to 
part us. I believe he sent his valet to spy on me when 
I went out on the beach, and the man, thinking to 
hide in the sea thistles, got into the quicksand. I 
do not speak to him except when I am obliged to do 
so to save myself a scene, yet he compels me to notice 
him before people. He really persecutes me. I will be 
so glad when he goes back to America.” 

“I will see that you are never thrown alone with him, 
and as he goes back after our stay of a week at Monte 
Carlo we will be rid of him.” 

After the party of hunters and ladies returned they 
grouped about the parlors, porches, balconies, and cozy 
corners. Richard and Amily sat in the same part of 
the big library. The lights had been turned on. 

They were so happy to be together that they were 
perfectly oblivious to everything else until Miss Col- 
gate made her appearance dressed for dinner. See- 
ing her, Amily rose and said: “I did not know it was 
near dinner time. I shall have to run away, and hurry, 
too.” 

“I will manage to sit next you at dinner,” said Lord 
Douglas. “I find no peace where you are not, and 


282 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the world is dark and empty without you. So you see 
how essential you are to my happiness. I fear Countess 
Angla will ask me to take in someone else,” he went 
on, “but I can manage to sit next you, however.” 

When Amily reappeared dressed in her pale-blue, sim- 
ple gown, with a white rose at the side of her hair, 
she was really very beautiful. When she entered the 
salon the host, Batas Beamer, came to meet her, say- 
ing: “I wish the honor of taking into dinner the 
heroine of the afternoon, who at the risk of losing 
her life — and her jacket — saved the life of a human 
being.” 

“Oh, pray don’t mention it! I only did what any- 
one would have done. I happened to come just in the 
right time, that is all.” 

Amily blushed a beautiful pink as she answered Le 
Comte, who passed her hand through his arm. 
“Brother,” said Countess Angla, “I think Mr. Bander- 
welt should have the honor, as Miss Freelanhisen saved 
the life of his valet.” 

“Oh, yes, perhaps ; but I claim the honor,” he 
answered. 

Amily cast down her eyes and they took the place 
of honor at the table and were served first, as com- 
posed as any at the table. She showed her good 
breeding in the fearless, low tone of her voice and the 
proud carriage of her head ; and when she was offended 
in the flashing answer of her brave eyes and the noble 
curve of her tender mouth. 

The conversation became general, and when the wine 
course was served Banderwelt proposed a toast to the 
heroine. The men rose and drank, the women drank 
sitting. Amily held an empty glass, but would not 
have it filled. The dinner was so long the music had 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


begun in the ballroom for the dance before they got 
up from the table. 

The host led the way to the ballroom and danced the 
first dance with Amily. When they had finished Sir 
Henry asked for the next, and while she was talking to 
him Lord Douglas came up, saying : “Don’t forget you 
promised me the first two-step; that will be the next 
after this.” 

Amily answered with her eyes, and Lord Douglas 
turned to speak to Miss Orr, who had a sneer on her 
face. 

“Richard,” she said, “I have hardly had a word 
with you, your time has been so taken up with the hero- 
ine. She is always in the limelight. The Americans 
surely do love notoriety.” 

“Do they.'^” he asked. “I had not noticed that they 
did. If you mean Lady Amily Freelanhisen, she is cer- 
tainly averse to notice, and is the bravest, truest little 
woman it has ever been my good fortune to know.” 

“Oh, I see, Richard, she has you, too, under the 
influence of those bewitching eyes of hers,” said Miss 
Orr. 

“I am most happy if she condescends to include me 
in their power,” he answered. “We will not discuss 
Lady Amily unless you can compliment her. She de- 
serves the highest praise.” 

The music stopped, and he told her he would find 
her partner for the two-step. She frowned and said: 
“I have no partner. I had hoped to sit out this dance 
with you. I have some things I wished to tell you.” 

“I am sorry, but you can tell me some other time. 
I have this two-step with Lady Amily. Come, there is 
my aunt; I will leave you with her.” 

When Richard placed his arm about Amily and they 


284 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


floated away over the smooth waxed floor he whis- 
pered, “This is heavenly.” 

He could feel her sweet breath on his cheek, and when 
the music came to a sudden stop he said: “We are back 
to earth, dear. The very art of life consists not in 
forcing or adapting life, but the ability from its very 
evil to bring forth good and the drinking for ourselves 
at the fount of beauty in all and any form. Come, the 
moonlight is glorious.” He got her a light wrap and 
throwing it across her shoulders they went out through 
the ante-room. 

They stood on the beach, with its waters breaking 
sofetly on the sand at their feet, the young moon shin- 
ing down upon them. She was his promised wife; the 
engagement ring was on her Anger, sparkling in the 
moonbeams. 

She spoke, saying: “The day after to-morrow we 
leave this enchanted place, do we not?” The softest, 
kindliest feelings she had experienced for her promised 
husband were awakened. “I love this beautiful beach 
and I feel like I must enjoy it to the fullest, as I may 
never see it again.” 

“Darling, when you are my wife we will see many 
beautiful beaches and we will travel where your fancy 
takes us,” he answered. 

“I have a presentiment, which weighs on my heart, 
that Mr. Banderwelt will do everything to part us,” she 
said. 

Wholly honest and truthful and sincere herself, she 
seldom suspected wrong in others, but she seemed to 
feel Banderwelt’s spiteful intentions and his suave, 
polite hate for her lover. Lord Douglas consoled her, 
telling her she was nervous and tired and imagined 
things. When he kissed her good-night she promised 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


285 


to go to sleep and not think of it any more, for he 
said he would not let anything come between them. 

She awakened early next morning and did most of 
her packing, then throwing on her big gray cloak she 
went out towards Roy’s apartments. She gave a 
whistle and old Boaz came with a bound. She had not 
gone far when she was joined by Roy Gerald in his 
little buckboard. She went to him, saying: ‘‘You heard 
my call. I knew you would come to that call. I can 
count on you two true comrades and friends. We 
leave to-night and I must have this early morning 
with my two best friends.” 

She jumped into the buckboard by his side, say- 
ing: “How could you get harnessed up and out so soon 
after my whistle .f’” 

“I was all ready to drive on the beach,” he said. “I 
know you love it, and would come there to see it the 
last time. Boaz was with me, and he bounded away 
and left me at your call.” 

“Roy,” said Amily, “I trust and like you so much 
that I want to tell you of my happiness. I am the be- 
trothed wife of Lord Douglas.” 

“Oh, I have thought so,” he answered. “Dick, old 
boy, could not keep the joy out of his face, and after 
he left you last night he came to me and we smoked 
together quite late. While he did not tell me in so 
many words, he asked me to congratulate him on his 
great happiness. He said you would tell me if you 
wished me to know, and of course I guessed. Amily,” — 
he called her that now, — “be good to dear old Dick; 
he deserves to be happy. I love him and Bat the best 
in the world, and now I have you, three people, I can 
say I trust in all this big world. Dick knows how I 
love and trust you.” 


286 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“He knows we have sworn friendship for each other, 
and it made him so happy. Oh, Roy, he is so good 
and true, I feel I can never be worthy of him! Will 
you take care of him when I am gone and let me know 
if anything should happen to him.? You have prom- 
ised to write to me once a week.” 

“I shall miss you so when you have gone. You 
have made this heaven. I have always told Bat that 
heaven is always a present, not a future state of the 
soul, and if any being would know the extent, the height, 
depth, and breadth of bliss which the world has in store 
for him at any time, let him take stock of how much 
heavenly beauty he sees and feels, and live in the crea- 
tions immediately around him. I am not a church 
member, but I do believe in this heaven or hell right 
here.” 

“I, too, Roy,” returned Amily, “am a firm believer in 
the great, good, and merciful God, but not in a re- 
vengeful and cruel God, who would consign men to 
an eternal hell.” 

She paused, then continued: “We make our heaven 
here.” 

“I wish we had more angels like some I know,” he 
said. 

It seemed to him she was far more beautiful than 
he had ever realized as she leaned sideways against 
the cushion of the seat, and he noticed the line of her 
cheek and neck, with downy little ringlets at the roots 
of her hair that fluffed and blew about her face. 

“We have so many ideas and views in common that 
I want you to come to Redich and visit us. Cousin 
will gladly welcome any friend of mine. I am so 
anxious for you to know her,” said Amily. 

“But when are you to be married?” asked Roy. 

“Oh, dear Roy, that is indefinite. We do not talk 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


287 

of marriage. We are just engaged; that for the pres- 
ent is all.” 

As they drove along the winding of the beach could 
be distinctly traced by the white fog which curled 
above the water line, but the fog and mist were roll- 
ing away as the warm sunshine came out over the 
land. 

After a while Amily said: 

“Is this not beautiful, Roy.^ I hate to leave it. I 
shall never see it again.” 

“Oh, don’t say that!” interposed Roy. 

“I wish you were going to Monte Carlo,” she said. 

“I should like it, too; that is, if I had a man’s 
stature.” 

“Dear, I never think of your figure; it is your great 
big heart and bright mind I recognize. Le Comte 
will come to Monte Carlo in a fortnight. Come with 
him ; I want you. Have you ever been there 

“Yes, I must confess I have been there. In my col- 
lege days I used to lose most of my allowance there. 
Bat has a town house there. As you are going there, 
you will see a funny little tower to the north that is 
always open to me. I am too poor to indulge in the 
sports, but I go when Bat is in residence there.” 

“Then promise me you will come when he comes. 
You can show me more and explain more about it all. 
We can have rides and moonlight walks together. 
Richard has so many friends they claim so much of 
his attention and time that I will need and want you. 
Charles Renselear is a fine boy, and I have tried to man- 
age to have him meet you, but since we have been here 
his whole time is taken up with this pretty English girl. 
Miss Belle Turner. He is perfectly infatuated with 
her. I don’t in the least blame him, she is such a pretty 


288 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


dark little thing, so quaint and so unusual-looking, and 
sq altogether charming.” 

“I have seen them walking and driving together,” 
said Roy, “with a thin, tall chaperon always in evi- 
dence.” 

“Yes, that is her mother.” 

They had driven the pony almost into the surf and 
sat talking and watching the gulls and beautiful white- 
caps. Their attention was attracted to a smart pair 
and a grand landau filled with a gay party coming 
past. When they came up Roy said: “That is Bat 
and Richard, with Miss Orr and Miss Belle Turner. 
We have just been talking about her. I wonder where 
Charles can be.” 

“It must be later than we think; they must have 
breakfasted.” 

“No, they expect to get back for ten o’clock break- 
fast. They are going down six miles to the Pirates’ 
Ruin. I wanted to take you there, but I could not get 
a chance.” 

“What is the Pirates’ Ruin.?” she asked. 

“It is an old ruin of a sort of stronghold, very small, 
but more of a fort than a chateau. One of our an- 
cestors built it in the year 1500, and some say he was 
a smuggler and was found murdered in his own strong- 
hold. Such is the general purport of this legendary 
superstition which has furnished material for many 
wild stories in that region of mist and shadows.” 

“I am so sorry I did not get to see it, too. I pre- 
sume they made up their minds to go while they waited 
for the party to come to breakfast. I dare say it was 
that dark romantic little Miss Belle Turner, she is so 
full of life, so animated and sprightly, and wants to 
see and do everything. Poor Charles I he will be so dis- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


289 


appointed not to have shown her that grewsome but ro- 
mantic spot.” 

When Amily parted from Roy she had made him 
promise to come to Monte Carlo with Batus Beamer. 

The whole party was at breakfast when Amily en- 
tered the dining-room. Mrs. Miller called her a truant 
and wanted to know if she had just gotten up. 

“I knocked on your door an hour ago,” she said. 

Lord Douglas answered for her, saying: “Lady 
Amily is an early riser. We saw her on the beach 
with Roy Gerald hours ago.” 

That was the first time Amily had heard anyone 
dare to call his name, and said: “Yes, I have had 
the most delightful ride on the beach with the most 
adorable companion who told me all the legendary su- 
perstitions of the place.” 

The Countess Angla arched her brows and shrugged 
her shoulders in a haughty manner, and spoke to 
her brother about the day’s shooting. There was a 
pause in the conversation till Lord Douglas said: 
“Lady Amily, you must not leave Chenang without 
seeing Pirates’ Ruin. I will take great pleasure in 
showing it to you if you will give me the pleasure. We 
can drive down and back by luncheon.” 

“I thought you were to shoot,” said Countess Angla. 

“No, I made such a bad record yesterday I con- 
cluded I would let the others bear the honors.” 

With that they all rose from the table and saunt- 
ered to the drawing-room, porches, lawn, and galleries. 

“Can we go to the Ruin in Roy’s buckboard?” asked 
Amily of Lord Douglas. “It is fine to ride in, so com- 
fortable, and one feels so close to the sand on the 
beach because it is such a little, low vehicle.” 

“Of course Roy will let you have it,” he answered. 


290 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


When Lord Douglas drove around Amily was in the 
porte-cochere waiting, and as they drove away Miss 
Orr was much amused at the ludicrous sight of those 
two big people, as she styled them, in that funny lit- 
tle buggy. No one seemed to join in her amusement. 
She called Banderwelt’s attention to them, though she 
could have saved herself the trouble, as he never lost 
sight of Amily. He was merely cynical now, and a 
frown as of sharp misery came into his face. 

As Lord Douglas drove the pony along the beach he 
said: “I wanted to drive once more with you along 
this smooth beautiful sand, and, darling, I was just 
a bit jealous when I saw you alone with Roy so much.” 

“You could never be jealous of him. He adores and 
loves you next to his brother Batas.” 

“Yes, he has a fine mind and a pure, generous na- 
ture. I am so glad you met him and he gave you so 
much pleasure. When you are my wife and we are at 
home we will have him with us often. We must be 
married at Christmas.” 

To her protests he had many answers ready. “I 
will not ask you for your secret that stands between 
us ; but rest assured I shall know in a short time after 
I go back to my town house in London.” 


CHAPTER XXV 


When the two lovers arrived at their destination 
Lord Douglas helped Amily out of the buckboard, and 
they wandered hand in hand about the Ruins. They 
came to a stone column which had fallen just where 
it made a delightful seat with a fine view of the sea 
and surrounding country. They sat on this column, 
he placing his arm about her waist. She let her head 
fall against his breast, and he bent over and kissed 
her lips, her eyes, and hair. 

“My darling, we must be married,” he said. “I 
cannot go on living like this. I am miserable when 
you are not with me. All other paths are dark, all 
other ways are strange. Marry me, darling. I make 
no terms, I ask none only that you be my treasured 
and adored little wife.” 

This alluring and masterful being had won her heart 
and she could not resist his pleading. She said: “I 
will marry you when you know that secret if you still 
ask me.” 

“Have I not told you nothing in the world can make 
any difference to me.^^” 

They were reminded that it was time to start back 
by seeing a man walking along the beach. The air 
had turned cool, almost wintry crisp and a little 
frosty, and made one feel full of life. They soon over- 
took the person walking and, after passing him, Amily 
said: “Really, Richard, I believe that man is sent to 
291 


OH, YOU ENGLISH ! 


^92 

spy on me. Every time I am out I see him, although 
he tries to avoid being seen. He is the valet of Mr. 
Banderwelt, whose life I saved from death in the quick- 
sand.” 

“I am sure you must be mistaken, dear. Why should 
he wish to watch you. Banderwelt knows you detest 
him, and he must know you are my promised wife.” 

“Yes, I know, but I feel a creepy sensation when- 
ever he looks at me, and I turn cold if he brushes me 
in passing. We will soon see the last of him, anyway, 
after our visit to Monte Carlo.” 

As they arrived, luncheon was over and the ladies 
were restless, no men being about. Some had gone to 
a little shooting box where the men expected to have 
lunch. It was so far that most of the ladies remained 
at Chenang. Mrs. Miller met Lord Douglas and Amily 
and laughingly said: “Amily, how could you monopo- 
lize the only man.? We are all dying with ennui. Do 
you know we leave Chenang for Monte Carlo at eight 
o’clock.? I sent my maid in to help you pack.” 

Amily kissed her cheek, saying: “You are such a 
dear, I thank you so much ; but I packed nearly every- 
thing before I went out.” 

“That is well, for when the hunters get in all will 
be confusion, and I know you would not have a chance. 
You should have called Nanette, however, she had 
plenty of time to have done all your packing.” 

“You spoil me too much. I am so used to waiting 
on myself I never think of calling anyone to help me, 
and, besides, my wardrobe is not so elaborate that it 
is laborious to pack it.” 

Mrs. Miller sat with Richard and Amily through 
lunch, and when they had finished they all sat in the 
drawing-room, where Miss Orr called to Lord Douglas, 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


293 


saying : ‘‘Come here ; I wish you to decide a question.” 
She, Miss Fay, and Miss Belle Turner were in an ani- 
mated discussion about Parliament, and they wished 
him to decide a question for them. However, the party 
soon broke up, as preparations must be completed for 
the departure for Monte Carlo. 

At eight o’clock sharp they were in the train. Amily 
sat by Le Comte, and was telling him how much she 
liked Roy Gerald, and that he must be sure to bring 
him when he joined the party at Monte Carlo. Le 
Comte was going only to the first station with his 
guests, and he told Amily he surely would bring Roy, 
adding that the little fellow had told him about their 
meeting and friendship. He seemed glad that Amily 
was interested in Roy, who rarely made friends, as he 
felt his affliction much and was so extremely sensitive. 

Le Comte had proved himself an admirable host, and 
now he bade Amily good-by, and went through the train 
telling his guests he would soon join them. 

Amily leaned her head back against the seat, hoping 
Richard could make some excuse to leave Lady Mack 
and come and take the seat by her side. She looked 
out of the car window and could see the towering cliffs 
of a desolate coast. She had so few moments to her- 
self that she closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but 
she was denied that pleasure, as Banderwelt took the 
seat which Le Comte Batas Beamer had vacated. 

“I hope I do not disturb your dreaming of your 
handsome English lord, who at this moment takes ad- 
vantage of your peaceful slumbers to flirt with his old 
love. Miss Orr.” 

“I do not condescend to notice your impertinent re- 
marks. If I did, I should have to call on some of my 
friends to call you to account.” 


294 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

Her tone was haughty and defiant as she answered 
him. 

“I beg your pardon, my dear Lady Amily, I should 
not be telling on your lord. Let him flirt and have a 
time while he can. He thinks when he marries the Lady 
Amily of Freelanhisen Hall he will have a rich and 
titled wife, but when he reads some genealogy I know 
of his great love will fly out the window.” 

Amily wrapped her gray traveling cloak over her 
head and turned her back to him. 

“There can be no doubt as to your motives, sir, and 
I refuse to listen to another word from you. You 
will please me if you vacate this seat, or I will go and 
stand in the aisle. I will not sit by you,” she said. 

“Don’t trouble to do that. I wish to speak with 
Sir Henry, and was just going through, but seeing 
you alone and your lover so engaged with Miss Orr 
I thought it might save you from remark if I took 
this seat for a few moments, and as my intentions are 
not appreciated I will say adieu.” 

She neither spoke nor looked at him, though she 
knew he had gone, and felt so relieved that tears came 
to her eyes. She must have fallen asleep, for all at 
once she felt someone take hold of her arm and say: 
“You were asleep, and it is really a shame to disturb 
you, but we are in and the train is about to come 
to a stop. Now give me your companion,” he said, 
taking her bag. She looked up and was glad to see 
Richard Douglas. 

“Now,” said Douglas, “we will change cars here. 
This train on the other side will convey us to the 
Channel port, where we pass over to France.” 

This stage of the journey was not a long one, and 
was marked by no event worthy of moment. Bander- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


295 


welt kept himself out of sight. Arrived at Dover, the 
whole party at once boarded the steamer. Amily had 
heard much of the dangers of the Channel passage, but 
having proved herself a good sailor on the trip across 
the Atlantic, she had no fear of the short sail to 
Calais. Her confidence was well rewarded, for the 
Channel was in one of its peaceful moods. 

Upon disembarking at Calais the following morning 
the party hastened aboard the train there, leaving the 
matter of baggage transfer and the like to the care 
of the servants. After a delightful trip through the 
sunny fields of France — a constant delight to Amily — 
they arrived after nightfall at the little principality 
wherein are contained the most famous gambling pal- 
aces of the world. 

Batas Beamer’s carriage, automobile, and servants 
were there to meet the party, and his younger brother, 
to conduct them to his town house, which was always 
open at this season to his friends. They were expect- 
ing the guests and the palace was a blaze of electric 
lights. 

They were no sooner out of the auto than they were 
ushered into a lift and the porter led the way through 
a wide corridor into a kind of reception-room, where 
Countess Angla, who had preceded them, made them 
welcome to her brother’s house. 

Amily was assigned a part of the suite given the 
Millers, and it was, if possible, a more beautiful room 
than the one she had at Chenang. It was about twelve 
o’clock, and she was very tired. She went to the win- 
dow and stood looking out over the square. It began 
to rain and the square was almost empty. Once in 
a while a single pedestrian would come in sight, then 
disappear into a side street. 


296 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


Now one came almost opposite her window. He 
stopped and looked up. She knew no one could see 
her, as she was peeping through the closed blinds. She 
thought he looked like Banderwelt’s valet. She watched 
till she saw him disappear toward the house, then she 
felt sure that it was he. She wondered if it could 
have been by chance that he stopped and looked at 
her window. 

She sat down in an easy-chair and was taking off her 
gloves when a maid called to help her undress. She dis- 
missed the maid, telling her she did not need her. When 
she looked about the beautiful Oriental room, with its 
stuffs from Damascus, rugs, carved ivory and cash- 
meres, she wondered at the wealth of this Le Comte 
Batas Beamer. 

“And to think of me, just little insignificant Amily, 
going on with such people and such elegances. Where 
will it end.^ I sometimes let my imagination carry me 
away. I will come back to earth and to bed; I can- 
not sit here dreaming all night. It is striking one 
o’clock from the big church tower. Or is it a church.? 
Maybe it is the big gambling hell, as some people call 
them.” 

She soon dropped to sleep in this magnificent, gilded 
cage, as she called it, thinking it was meant for some 
rare tropical bird. 

During the days following, when Lord Douglas drov^ 
her about Monte Carlo, Amily said: “This is the most 
beautiful place I have seen — I mean the most extrava- 
gant display of money possibilities. I never saw such 
grand mosaic paving and gilded doors and so much 
electricity.” 

“Wait till you have seen the interior of these palaces 
of iniquity,” he said. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


m 

The next day they went to the gambling places. 
Most of the men and some of the women had to gam- 
ble, others just to say that they had tried their luck 
at Monte Carlo. They went from one of these places 
to another watching the players and noting the expres- 
sions of those wild-eyed, haggard faces. Some eyed the 
banked-up silver and gold coin with eyes that protruded 
farther out from their cheeks than their noses, their 
hands clutching their own gains, or if losers, their 
faces turning to a deathlike, pallid hue. 

They kept going from poker-room to roulette, and 
to where all the other games are played. At last they 
entered a room not so large as some of the others, 
but which seemed to be more private and magnificently 
equipped. Amily had never dreamed of a place so 
fine. The top was flooded in the sunshine, while the 
room was sweet with faint perfume wafted from foun- 
tains thrown a few feet up into the air, falling back 
into a basin formed of lapis lazuli, malachite, porphyry, 
sardonyx, sapphire, and jade. The walls were mirrors. 

The spectators were all watching one table of rou- 
lette. Amily, Lord Douglas, and the whole party, in 
fact, stopped to watch this game and the very hand- 
some, distinguished-looking gambler. Some said he 
was a Spanish nobleman who had sat there losing 
steadily for a whole week, only stopping to take re- 
freshments and rest for a few hours. Some said he 
was an American who had played the season through, 
losing and winning, and that he frequented this place 
every year, with the exception of the previous year, 
when he had gone to old Mexico instead. Their in- 
formant said that no one seemed to know much about 
him, he being very reticent. 

Amily unconsciously drew a sharp breath of sur- 


298 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


prise as her eyes met those of the player. He was 
Lorraine Weicliff. She thought she was going to faint, 
and clutched Lord Douglas’ arm for support. She 
did not know whether Weicliff recognized her. This 
was the man they had all been discussing, and he was 
surely very distinguished looking, with his big brown 
eyes, white skin, and small, aristocratic hands. He 
was dressed in the height of fashion. He spoke three 
languages besides his own, — French, Spanish, and 
Italian. 

If Weicliff recognized Amily he did not show it even 
by the tremble of an eyelash. He kept right on, bet- 
ting larger sums, and doubling again and again, only 
to lose; never winning. His expression never changed, 
his face wearing the same placid look, as if half amused. 
He placed large sums of money on the table, only to 
be swept away; then he would double and double till 
all the onlookers were attracted to him. He paid not 
the slightest attention to the people or the interest he 
had created, but played on, on, in just the same cool, 
calm way. 

He did not gamble for the sake of winning money 
for money’s sake. He was a gentleman, and avarice 
was not among his faults. He loved chance, and took 
real pleasure in trying how far he could go without 
breaking. This is characteristic of the born gambler. 
Weicliff did not play much in drawing-rooms or at 
clubs, the stakes being rarely high enough to give him 
an emotion, and he did not like the sensation of win- 
ning much from friends, as it made him uncomfortable. 
He was far too refined in his taste for pleasure to 
waste an evening at such places. That is why he fre- 
quented these public places. He, of course, met friends 
here, for the society in these haunts is extremely mixed. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! S99 

though the owners of the establishments take infinite 
trouble to make it select. 

Amily was fascinated watching the different kinds 
of people that gambled — ladies in silks and jewels, men 
from all walks of life, from the silk-hatted dandy to 
the horny-handed laborer, all nationalities. 

Lord Douglas urged her to move on to the next room, 
but she made a trivial excuse to remain. She just 
could not leave Lorraine Weicliff ; something seemed 
to hold her spellbound. He never raised his big, sad 
brown eyes from the play, and she stood near him till 
a big pile of gold was placed. He lost again. His face 
slightly paled, and then he took a fine diamond shirt 
screw from his bosom and placed it beside the pile 
of gold. He motioned for the play, but the dealer said : 
“Two hundred dollars more to balance that.” 

He was going to put up his watch when, to the 
consternation of all the party, Amily stepped forward 
and placed the five-hundred-dollar check that her 
brother Tao had sent her alongside the diamond. She 
had it in her little purse and had not meant to cash 
it till she was compelled to. 

Noting her action with no little surprise, Weicliff 
said: “Amily, I cannot take your money.” She came 
closer and, leaning down, said: “Indeed you must. It 
is only a debt I owe, and this is my first chance to 
pay.” 

The dealer could not wait, so shoved the diamond and 
the check on, and when the wheel turned it won, and 
the dealer shoved back the gold, diamond, and check. 
He put it up again, and again it won, while Amily 
stood with bated breath. 

Lord Douglas was shocked and had turned as white 
as a sheet. The women were horrified, some exclaim- 


300 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

ing: “How could one of our party disgrace us like 
this !” 

Lord Douglas again urged Amily to go, and she 
followed him. WeiclifF had asked her in an under- 
tone where she was staying, and she had answered that 
she was a guest of Le Comte Batus Beamer. That 
was all that had passed between them. 

As they passed on to the Porto Chenang, as Beamer’s 
town house was called, there was not a word spoken 
between Amily and her lover till they were in the big 
reception-room. Then he sat down by her under a 
shaded red light. There were others scattered about 
this big room, though none near enough to hear their 
conversation. 

Looking into her eyes, Douglas said: “My darling, 
can you explain this.f^ I am surprised and somewhat 
shocked, as our other friends were. Perhaps you had 
best wait till you are more calm and rested. Look 
at me, my beautiful queen,” and she looked him bravely 
in the face. 

“I will tell you all,” she said. “He was my fa- 
ther’s friend and my first real friend. Can you trust 
me till to-morrow, when I will tell you the whole story 
of my acquaintance with this gambler.?” 

“Yes, my precious darling; I cannot doubt you. I 
am only a little bit sorry that your meeting him should 
have been so dramatic and public.” 

She held out her hand to him and he held it while 
he bade her good-night. 

As she got out of the lift and going toward her room 
Banderwelt seemed to rise from she could not tell where 
and, coming close to her, said: “I see you are meeting 
some of your American friends, and I must say you 
are truly a friend in need, too, as you came up just 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


301 


at the right moment with your check on the Bank of 
London. It was really very dramatic and touching,” 
he said, with a diabolical sneer. “Your little white 
English lord was shocked to fainting. He evidently 
does not know all your old flames and lovers. You 
will have a hard time explaining, I fear. Poor little 
thing! if he won’t believe you, remember my arms are 
open to you. Fly to me; I will even offer you honor- 
able marriage.” 

“Oh, my God, how insufferable!” thought Amily. 
“Must I call on my betrothed husband to defend me 
from you.?” she said. “You are a fiend incarnate.” 

“Then you confess to me that you are engaged to 
marry him.?^” he asked. 

“Let me pass,” retorted Amily, “or I will call the 
porter yonder at the end of the corridor.” 

He let her pass, hissing in her ear : “You shall not 
marry him. You are an imbecile to dream of that.” 

Amily closed and double-locked her door and sat 
down to think, saying: “I am shaking as if I had a 
chill; I must have better control of my nerves. But 
this fiend in human form, why does he persecute me 
as he does.f^ He knows I detest him. What did he 
mean.f^ How can he keep me from marrying Richard 


CHAPTER XXVI 


Amily went to bed but could not sleep. She heard 
all the noises quiet down, all the bolts drawn, the doors 
shut and locked, and the lights lowered; still she had 
not slept. She heard the clock strike two, and then 
fell into a light sleep. Suddenly she was awakened and 
startled by a shot. Sharp and distinct, it rang through 
the house clear and loud. 

She sprang out of bed and heard the voices of people, 
the confusion of running and muffled sounds. She was 
afraid to open the door, but threw on a dressing gown 
and put on her slippers, then turning on her light in 
full sat listening, though she could not hear anything 
distinctly. 

She did not know how long she had sat there, when 
a knock came at her door and Mrs. Miller’s voice said : 
“Open your door; let me in. A dreadful thing has 
happened.” 

Amily opened the door at once, saying: “What is 
it?” 

“Someone has been shot. Who, I cannot find out. 
Captain Miller is out with a party of men trying to 
catch the murderer.” 

“Oh, my! who is murdered? I heard the shot,” said 
Amily. 

“We heard it, too, and Captain Miller ran out in 
his night clothes.” 

It seemed that all the people in the house had heard 
302 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


the shot and were running about, asking about it. 
Captain Miller hurriedly dressed and went out with 
the rest. 

‘‘As I came in here a maid of Countess Angla said 
there had been a murder in the north transept,” said 
Mrs. Miller. 

“Oh, my God! that is where Lord Douglas has his 
apartment,” said Amily. 

“Yes, and, dear, Mr. Plimpton, Sir Henry, and some 
others are there. Do not get nervous ; come with me 
to my room. Captain Miller will doubtless come to let 
me know.” 

When they got to Mrs. Miller’s room her maid said : 
“Your husband was here and said to tell you that Lord 
Douglas had been shot.” 

Amily was behind, but heard every word the maid 
said. She gave one little shriek and swooned away. 
Mrs. Miller was trying to silence the maid and, looking 
at Amily, saw her swoon. She and the maid got Amily 
to the bed and gave her the usual restoratives, slap- 
ping her hands and straightening her out on the bed. 
She soon opened her eyes in a dazed, uncertain way, 
then, coming to the realization of things, was rising 
to go. 

“I will go to Lord Douglas, where he is. Who could 
have done the cowardly, dastardly deed.^” 

“Amily, you cannot go to him till the proper time,” 
urged Mrs. Miller. 

“Now is the proper time,” answered Amily, and she 
brushed past Mrs. Miller out into the hall and was 
flying along the corridor, going as fast as she could 
toward Douglas’ apartment when she saw the crowd 
going in and standing at the door of the Turkish 
reception-room. She ran on, her disheveled hair turn- 


304 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


bled about her pale face, her eyes dark as thought 
and memory came to her. 

Entering the Turkish-room she went to the couch 
where the stricken Lord Douglas lay, with a party of 
men about, waiting for the doctors. Amily paid no 
attention to any protest, but went to Douglas’ side, 
bent down and tenderly kissed his white lips, holding 
his hand and whispering: “Oh, my darling, my darling! 
who could have hurt you.^” 

Douglas opened his eyes and a smile of recognition 
passed over his face. Now the doctors came in, and 
Lorraine WeiclifF, who was among the number, raising 
Amily up, led her from the room, telling her to come 
with him, that she must let the doctors examine Doug- 
las’ hurt. Amily did not resist, but held to Weicliff 
to keep from falling. 

When they were out of the room they met Captain 
Miller and his wife, who had followed Amily, and Mrs. 
Miller said: “Amily, you must come with me to your 
room. The house is full of police and detectives ; it 
is not proper for you to be out of your room.” 

“Yes, I know, but I cannot leave my darling to die. 
Oh, Mr. Weicliff, go to him, remain with him, and as 
soon as the doctors have finished come for me. I 
waive ceremony, propriety, everything, to be by his 
side. I am his promised wife; my place is with him. 
I will not be separated from him.” 

“Amily,” said Mrs. Miller, “you rave, dear; you do 
not know what you say,” and placing her arms about 
the sorrowing girl led her to the bed. Amily would 
not lie down, as Mrs. Miller and the maid tried to get 
her to do, but sat on it, hugging her knees and softly 
crying. Weicliff treated her like he would a little child, 
calling her “dear.” 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


305 


“Yes, dear,” he said, “I will come and let you know 
how he is as soon as the doctors know. He was con- 
scious when you were with him, and he knew you.” 

“Thank Heaven I” she said. Weicliff now withdrew 
and went back to Lord Douglas. 

The distracted Amily waited in terror the morning 
long, till at about eleven o’clock when a servant knocked 
at her door, with a little note from Lorraine Weicliff. 
It began: 

“Dear Amily: 

“Your lover is not fatally hurt; he will recover, but 
he must be kept perfectly quiet. No one can be al- 
lowed to see him but the doctors and the two trained 
nurses. They thought it too great a risk to move 
him, and he still occupies the Turkish reception-room. 
The passage is closed that way, all bells muffled, and 
that part of the house is to be kept perfectly quiet. 
The detectives have no clue as yet. I will keep you 
posted from time to time.” 

Amily kept her room for two or three days with- 
out any outdoor exercise, till Mrs. Miller advised her 
to walk in the grounds with a maid. 

“My dear friend,” said Amily, “you are so good 
to. me I will take your advice and walk or drive to- 
morrow. I can breathe with more ease since I know 
that Richard improves. Oh, if I could only go to him 
and nurse him I I cannot tell why, but I have felt that 
death lay in ambush for me or the man I love.” 

“Dear, you should not accuse a person without some 
proof.” 

“I know. I told the chief of police that I saw a 
man I took to be Banderwelt’s valet watching my win- 


306 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


dow. I thought I should have been the one to receive 
that shot. I told them about Mr. Banderwelt’s tell- 
ing me in the hall that night that I should never marry 
Richard. I have a premonition that it was Mr. Ban- 
derwelt’s valet who fired the shot. He seemed to spy on 
my every act; everywhere I go I see that man. Poor 
wretch, he repays me for saving his life by trying to 
kill the only man I shall ever love I” 

The next Thursday Amily felt that she must get out 
alone for air and to think. She wrapped and veiled 
herself and slipped out of the house by the servants’ 
quarters without being seen. She did not know where 
she was going, but just kept on. Here and there were 
large, beautiful old trees, beneath which coffee stalls 
were set up, and where indolent young gamblers of 
the poorer class congregate to get coffee, a roll, and 
smoke cigarettes before going back to poker, roulette, 
or any of the games. 

Amily wandered on, and the sun was low and its 
beams already red as she mounted a steep path lead- 
ing she knew not where. She saw no living soul, and 
finally she entered a gate to a lovely garden of the 
Villa Rose. The pavement, black and white check- 
ered, led to the white marble steps of a pagoda. 

She sat on these steps for some little time with half- 
closed eyes, trying to think. Not a sound disturbed 
the silence until the sweet, low voice of Roy Gerald 
called her back to the cold realities of everyday life. 
She rose with a cry of surprise and gladness. 

“Oh, you have come at last ! I have looked for you 
every day. Oh, why could you not have been here 
when this terrible sorrow came to me! You were the 
only one I trusted and told my secret to, now every- 
one knows I am his promised wife. I was so dis- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


307 


tressed I did not know what I did or said; I virtually 
screamed it at them. Oh, Roy, my true and loyal 
friend! you must take me in to see him. I promise I 
will do just as the doctor says. Why were you so 
long coming?” 

“I was with Batas. He had some very important 
business in Paris and we were detained there much 
longer than he had expected to be. We would be there 
now if we had not received the telegram telling us of 
this tragedy. The first telegram did not reach us, 
the one we received being transferred from Chenang. 
I sent you a note, and the servant said you did not 
see anyone. That was this morning early, when we 
had just arrived. Bat went to see Richard first, before 
he tried to see you. He says Richard will get over 
this, but they will have to be very careful. Bat did 
not dare to speak to him. Richard sleeps most of the 
time, and they do not let him suffer much. How did 
you find your way to Rose Villa ? I am stopping here, 
as Porto Chenang is full and this belongs to Batus, too. 
I was out at the kennels when I saw you enter the gar- 
den. I knew you almost at once by your walk and 
figure, although you were enveloped in that big gray 
cloak.” 

“I presume my good angel directed my footsteps here 
to you. Oh, I have so much to tell you that I cannot 
tell anyone else. Roy, I am most confident that Ban- 
derwelt’s man shot Richard.” 

“Yes, he was suspected after your evidence to the 
police, but when they went to get him he had escaped.” 

“How could they let him get away ?” asked Amily. 

“Money can work wonders. Banderwelt is making 
every effort to find him, and I think has offered a 
reward for his capture.” 


308 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


“Don’t they suspect Banderwelt? He is the real as- 
sassin, I tell you.” 

“Yes, Amily, I agree with you fully, but we cannot 
prove anything.” 

Roy took her hands and, pulling her up, said: “I 
must take you back; it is getting dark.” 

“Yes,” she answered, “you must take care of me; I 
am not myself. The world seems far away, everything 
is confused and vanishing.” 

They entered, as she had gone, through the back of 
the house, and Roy promised to see her every day and 
tell her how Richard was. When he bade her good- 
night at the lift the door slid sideways into grooves, 
and at a sudden stop she was in a flood of electricity. 
She met a bevy of the young women and a score of 
the white-kidded dandies, most of them very English, 
with the ever-present monocle and perfumed breath. 

Some acknowledged her with a bow, others with a 
stare, and most of the women passed her by. Miss 
Fay stopped for a second to say she missed her, as 
she had not joined them in any of the gayety. Amily 
thanked her with supreme elegance born of soul 
grandeur. She grew sick of the fashionable follies 
and these people, so unlike her real friends. 

Two days later Roy sent for her. “My brother 
wishes me to bring you with me, as the doctors say 
we can see Richard.” 

“Oh, bless him! I will be ready in one moment.” 

“We must not stay to talk.” 

“I will do what the doctor says.” 

They had a little talk with the doctor and nurse 
before entering. The nurse told her he had called for 
her all the time when he was delirious, and when he 
was conscious he had asked to see her. Now they 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


309 


left her as Amily went to Douglas’ bedside and took 
his hand so gently that he did not open his eyes till 
she kissed his forehead. Then he placed his arm over 
her, drawing her closer. 

“My darling, you have been with me all the time, 
but not so real as now. Strange sunlight, cool gleams 
of moonlight, faint enchantment of twilight, great 
winds, flutterings of trees and flowers, strange incenses, 
odors and essences, delicious music — amid all these we 
lived and loved, you and I.” 

She kissed him again and said: “Yes, dear, this life 
is fair and sweet in spite of its difficulties and sor- 
rows, if we know it is only the prologue to a greater 
and more beautiful life which lies beyond the curtain 
which has not yet been raised.” 

He held her thus till the nurse came to remind them 
they must part now. Amily promised to come to him 
when the doctor let her. Roy and Batas Beamer had 
waited for her, and Le Comte said: “We have a small 
carriage under the porte-cochere, and you must get a 
wrap and your hat, you need the air and sunshine.” 

Amily ran to get them, and as they drove through 
an avenue flooded with sunshine and sweet with flow- 
ers Batas Beamer took her hand and said: “Let me 
congratulate you. Richard had informed me of his 
engagement, telling me you would not let him announce 
it.” 

She drew a sharp breath and said : “Yes ; I did not 
wish it announced, as our marriage could not be very 
soon.” 

“He told me in a letter written the night he was 
hurt, of your rising up and helping an old friend of 
your father who was about to go broke at roulette. 
It surely was a brave act, that few young girls would 


310 OH, YOU ENGLISH! 

have dared, as she must know she would be so severely 
criticised.” 

“I did not think of the other people, I only thought 
of my father’s friend who had once made me a loan 
when I wished it so much.” 

‘‘It seems to me you go about doing good, saving 
life, even.” 

“Oh, I wish I could go through life sowing good 
deeds as a connection of my mother in Atlanta, Georgia, 
who, when she went on a journey by train, always took, 
in her traveling bag a lot of perennial flower seeds, and 
as the train sped along she held her hand out of the 
window, sowing these flower seeds in good and bad 
soil. The consequence is Georgia in spring time is a 
perfect flower garden.” 

When they had driven through the prettiest streets 
Le Comte asked Amily to excuse him and finish the 
drive with Roy, as one of his guests and his immediate 
party were leaving the next day, and that he had prom- 
ised to meet Banderwelt and arrange about their trans- 
ports and so on. 

Amily said to Roy, when they were alone: “This is 
quite sudden, his departure, is it not.?” 

“I think he says he has heard that some member of 
the Banderwelt family have unexpectedly arrived in 
Paris and telegraphed him to meet them.” 

“I am so glad he is going! I hope I shall never 
see his wicked, cruel face again. He richly deserves 
to be punished; his money alone saved him and his 
accomplice. Oh, the power of money! Roy, I feel 
a little tired; let us drive. You know my friends. 
Millers, are the guests of Banderwelt, and they join 
him next Thursday at Calais and return with him to 
America. I shall travel with them to London and re- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


311 


main in London twenty-four hours. Captain and Mrs. 
Miller will see me on my train for Redich. Oh, it is 
so hard to leave Richard, but when my chaperon leaves 
I must go, too. Will you watch and guard him for 
me, and if he gets a setback send for me? I will come 
with my cousin. Lady Freelanhisen. She is quite feeble 
to travel so far, but she will come with me if I request 
it. And, my dear friend, help me if you can to avoid 
meeting Banderwelt again. I am glad you know Lor- 
raine Weicliff, and know he is a gentleman in spite 
of his gambling. How many Englishmen indulge in 
gambling, dissipation, and even dishonor and are never 
reprimanded by society! So, as he is a gentleman, I 
am sure you will not be contaminated by your friend- 
ship and admiration of him.” 

“By the way, he is anxious to see you before you 
leave Porto Chenang. He will not come here, as he 
does not wish to meet the guests, for he fears he might 
cast reflection on you, since he is known in Monte 
Carlo as a professional gambler.” 

“How very considerate of him.” 

“Will you come to the pagoda at Rose Villa garden 
to-morrow at four o’clock? I will meet you at the back 
porter’s lodge and go with you, and wait at the villa 
till he leaves you. Then I will come in my little car- 
riage and we can have a drive before I set you down 
again at the back porter’s lodge.” 

“That will be lovely!” she answered. “I shall enjoy 
it so much, and we can plan about your coming to 
see us at Freelanhisen Hall.” 

Most of the next morning Amily spent with Rich- 
ard. He was so much improved that he was propped 
up in bed, and received her with a bright, glad smile. 
His aunt was in the room and only left it when Rich- 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


sn 

ard said: “Will you wait in the ante-room? I have 
some things I wish to say to my fiancee.” 

His aunt did not answer except to say: “Be very 
careful, you know what your doctor says.” 

Richard improved rapidly, and on Thursday Amily 
was with him all day till time to leave. He was par- 
tially dressed and was in a large invalid chair. He 
begged her to marry him then before she left Porto 
Chenang, but she put him off till she had a talk with 
her cousin. Lady Freelanhisen. 

He told her that a package had come to him from 
Banderwelt, with a note, saying: “I present you the 
genealogy of the House of Freelanhisen. I have no 
further use for it, and thought it might interest you 
to look over it while you are convalescent.” 

“What can he mean?” said Lord Douglas. 

“Richard, dearest, when he annoyed me in America 
to marry him and I repulsed him, he told me he had 
gotten the genealogy of my family; that he knew all 
about me and that I need not hold my head so haughty 
and high.” 

“I will have my valet destroy it if you say so. I 
know enough of you to know you are as pure as an 
angel, my promised little wife.” 

“The poor wretch has done me a great favor, where 
he wished to injure me instead, by this last stroke. 
Read it through, my precious beloved, and if you still 
wish me to be your wife then you may come to me 
at Freelanhisen Hall and name our wedding day.” 


CHAPTER XXVII 


When Amily’s train reached Redich station she 
looked out and saw Cross on the platform waiting for 
her. The old barouche stood in sight to take her to 
the Hall. She shook Cross by the hand heartily, ask- 
ing about the health of her cousin and the rest. 

“Your cousin is very well,” Cross answered, “but 
your grandmother is very ill. In fact, we despaired 
of her life last night and would have sent you a wire 
if you had not already started.” 

Amily had never spoken of her grandmother to any- 
one but her cousin, and she did not know that Cross 
knew what the relationship was between them. 

“I am so glad I am here,” she said simply. “Tell 
Jenks to hurry and not mind about the luggage. That 
can be sent for any time.” 

When Amily met her cousin she fell into her arms 
and the big tears ran down her cheeks. 

“There, there!” said Lady Freelanhisen; “dry your 
tears. I am so thankful to have you with me again 
you can never know how I missed you and what a 
ray of sunshine you brought with you into this dismal 
old Hall. Dear, I had our lawyer come and draw 
up my will, and I have left you this old Hall and all 
I have, except a few bequests of a personal nature, 
and when you come to live here, if you ever do, I hope 
the good Lord will send brightness and the happy 
laughter of little children into this gloomy old place. 

313 


314 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


Nothing else can ever made it bright and gay. And, 
my child, how you have suffered, too; your big eyes 
show it. You were so good to send me a line each day 
to let me know how dear Richard was. Do you think, 
are you quite sure, he is out of danger.?” 

“Yes, he will soon be with us. He has promised to 
come to us as soon as it is safe for him to travel.” 

Lady Freelanhisen then told Amily of how ill her 
grandmother was, and that when she had rested she 
could go to her. 

“She is perfectly unconscious; just sleeps, scarcely 
breathing. She does not suffer. Doctor Gray, who 
is with her now, says she may linger through to-night 
and to-morrow, though he cannot tell.” 

When Amily went in to see her grandmother she went 
to the bed and, bending down, pressed her lips to the 
cold, wrinkled face, holding the yellow, bony little 
hand and speaking to her. 

At first the dying woman did not answer, then after 
a while said : “Come closer. I feel in myself the future 
life; I am rising towards the sky; the sunlight is over 
my head. Heaven lights me with the reflection of other 
worlds. I am going on, on up to Theodore.” 

The doctor held the other hand and Lady Freelan- 
hisen sat by the side of Amily. All sat thus till the last 
weak breath came and the grandmother had really 
passed on to that great beyond. The next day they 
laid her body in that open sepulcher where people there- 
’ about# thought she had lain since her mind had gone. 

Sir Robert Boxley, Lady Freelanhisen, her three 
servants. Doctor Gray, and Amily made up the funeral 
procession that followed the dead to Bowlie church. 
There was no religious service except a prayer read 
by Sir Robert Boxley. 


OH, YOU ENGLISH! 


315 


Amily sent a telegram to Lord Douglas, saying: 
“My grandmother Freelanhisen was buried to-day.” 
That was all; she knew he would understand, as she 
had requested him to read that genealogy. 

She received an answer reading: “I will be with you 
in a fortnight, or sooner, if able to travel.” 

Six months from that day Amily Freelanhisen was 
married in Bowlie church to Lord Richard Douglas, the 
wedding being very quiet. Her gown was shining, 
heavy white satin, veiled with a gossamer lace, very 
old, from the wardrobe of the Freelanhisens’. The 
church was flooded with sunshine, spring flowers, and 
spring simplicity. 


THE END 


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